


When The Zsasz Is Away...

by CJMartinnn, meowitskatmofo



Series: Our Gotham, Nots Yours [15]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angry Sex, Angst, Drama, Exhibitionism, Flirting, Gordlock - Freeform, Gunplay, Hate Sex, Jealousy, M/M, Near Death, Nygmobblepot, Possible non con, Rough Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, Valzsasz, Violence, bottom ed, dark ed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-09-20 03:24:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9473282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CJMartinnn/pseuds/CJMartinnn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/meowitskatmofo/pseuds/meowitskatmofo
Summary: Jerome cannot resist temptation and gathers up his followers to go have some fun. They end up at City Hall, interrupting a meeting that Oswald and Edward are attending. Harvey and Jim arrive to try and save the day, ending up way in over their heads and the situation soon becomes hopeless.





	1. Jerome Will Play!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jerome takes over City Hall with many dire consequences.

Edward Nygma had been planning; the thought had been on his mind for quite some time now, and he had finally started to put the pieces into place. The holidays were finally behind them and New Year's was fast approaching and Edward's master plan was nearly complete. He was determined to make an honest man out of Oswald Cobblepot. Especially in moments like this, watching him rule over a committee meeting with other city officials, he knew that Oswald was the one he was meant to spend the rest of his life with. He chuckled lightly, listening to the proud mayor verbally eviscerate any opposition to his decisions, long fingers skillfully tying little green ribbons into pretty bows. 

He was crafting small cards, each filled with a tantalizing riddle, all part of his great plan to woo his lover into marriage. Oswald hadn't paid much attention to what he was doing, Ed offhandedly telling him it was part of an effort to prepare for a future public event and left it at that. Easy enough to fool him since Edward managed his every daily activity and the mayor trusted him to keep up with such things. Oswald had no idea what he was up to. 

Edward had nearly finished, humming lightly as he shuffled the little group of cards together in a neat stack. The ring was still in his pocket, where he had kept it for what felt like an eternity. Soon, he promised himself. The right moment was coming. He was almost ready. 

Even as much as he enjoyed listening to Oswald lord over these mundane proceedings, something from outside caught Edward's attention. He stood up from the table, tucking the little stack of cards in his pocket, headed towards the window. Car alarms, crashes, people chanting; what was happening? 

He saw a crowd of dozens, men and women, faces wildly painted. They had torches, clubs, some had guns, and they were swarming outside all around the block. Windows of vehicles were smashed to the sound of cheers, garbage cans were being tipped over and their contents lit up into flames. A mob, a completely mad mob, was threatening to storm the very doors of this building at any moment. Down in the thick of the masses, a single figure caught his eye, leading the insane rush. 

If it wasn't for the bright red hair, Edward would have never known him. Despite the distance, Edward recognized him immediately. Jerome Valeska; oh, crud. They were supposed to have a standing truce, an offering of peace! Where the hell was Victor, that lunatic's husband at? He was seemingly the only one who could keep Jerome under control, but that gaunt assassin was nowhere to be seen. It was only that madman and the masses, moments away from bringing destruction right down upon them. 

Edward tensed, his voice short and crisp, hissing, "Oswald, I believe it's time to leave." 

Oswald had been so caught up in his current meeting that he barely noticed the sounds of shouting outside the building. When Edward interrupted him, he was annoyed, about to tell him to wait, but that was when he heard gunshots, quickly looking to Ed. "What on earth is going on out there?" he questioned, more than ready to get out of there now. 

Jerome had really been trying his best to behave while Victor was away. He was. He promised he would lay low, stay around the apartment and not get into any trouble. They'd had so much fun on their honeymoon, loving every moment of it. He was a little sad to return to Gotham because he knew it would mean time away from Victor if had to go work. His dear husband was only going to be gone for a day, doing a job for Don Falcone outside of Gotham. Jerome could totally handle one day by himself, left entirely to his own devices, right? 

Wrong, wrong, wrong. 

He had done well for the first ten hours, but mostly he had just slept. Once he woke up to Victor gone, it only took a couple hours of Jerome wandering around the apartment, tossing a few new knives in the ceiling and teaching himself how to get out of Victor's favorite handcuffs (a fun little surprise for when his husband returned), before he finally just couldn't take sitting around any more. No sir. There had to be something he could do to pass the time. 

He knew he still had some followers that met up fairly frequently, not really having graced them with his presence since meeting Victor. Now seemed a good a time as any to get them all riled up and cause some trouble. With one phone call, he had a fairly large mob assembled, as excited as could be when the mere sight of him sent them into a frenzy. He made it clear; there were no rules, just chaos, kill who you wanted, destroy what you wanted, but most importantly, have fun. 

It wasn't long before they were outside of the City Hall, which Jerome _may_ have thought was a building owned by Wayne Enterprises. Jerome was howling with laughter at the sounds of shattering glass, the smell of fire and the sounds of screaming and gunshots. Ooo, this was going to be a blast. 

Before either Oswald or Edward could even consider escape, the mob burst through the doors of the hall, flooding in with no mercy. They were setting fires and gunning down innocent people left and right, Jerome at the center of it all. Oswald's eyes narrowed furiously, trying to find Victor in all of this. Why did he not have this awful little creature on a leash? 

Edward was terrified. He watched as the city officials tried to flee, quickly set upon by painted hoodlums and taken down outside the doorway in a fury of gunshots and blood. He was panting, grabbing Oswald's hand and trying to get him back into his office. Limited access, small windows, safe. Very safe. One of the monstrous thugs had made his way into the meeting room, bursting right throw the glass wall. Edward cowered back, keeping himself in front of Oswald, shouting, "Go! Go, now!" 

Edward desperately shoved his lover out of harm's way, grunting as the thug leapt on top of him. His glasses were lost in the struggle, gasping to find his breath as the man slammed a fist into his face. His vision was getting blurred, kicking and struggling to fight back. 

_> Hello, there... Looks like you might need some help?_

"Just fine!" Edward spat out loud, gasping as he tried to breathe, the thug's hands squeezing around his neck. 

_Yeah, no. I don't think so. I'm pretty invested in you staying alive, in case you haven't noticed; since I am you? How about you just sit back, relax, and let your ol' dear friend handle this. You look so, so very tired..._

Edward couldn't fight back any longer, his eyes closing, his body going limp. He gave in, drifting away, letting the darkness consume him entirely. 

Oswald was going to listen to Ed, he really was, knowing his lover only wanted to keep him safe. But then that thug had tackled his darling Edward to the ground, getting the upper hand. He was searching for something to fight back with, nothing Ed's body wasn't moving. He felt immediate panic. He rushed towards his side, about to tackle the thug right off of him and beat him with his bare hands. But Edward's eyes had opened again and Oswald saw _that_ look, that darkness. It wasn't his Edward in charge. Oh, no; it was that other monster his darling kept at bay. 

Edward's eyes were blank voids, hateful and excited. He flexed the muscles of his neck, giving himself more time to hold his breath, nimble fingers reaching over to the shattered glass spread across the floor. He grabbed a particularly large piece, swinging his arm up and stabbing his assailant in the face repeatedly. 

Blood gushed like a fountain, streaming all over him, Edward screaming and pushing himself back over on top of the thug. He stabbed him over and over, laughing as blood bubbled up from the man's mouth. He roared, standing up to his feet, whirling back toward Oswald. He smile eerily, letting the glass drop from his hand, warning him, "Pretty sure we told you to go hide somewhere. Although, personally, I always love to play with you." 

Edward grabbed one of the chairs from around the table, snapping the leg off and gripping it tightly. His eyes were hungry, darting all over to find the next fool idiotic enough to step to him. He licked his lips, loving the taste of fresh, hot blood. It wasn't often Ed let him out to play; he wanted to enjoy this. 

Oswald took a step back, knowing full well not to get in the way. This Edward was an entirely different person inside his lover's mind, someone that Oswald knew not to push too far. The sight of Edward unleashing so violently had been a little hotter than he was willing to admit, but that eerie little smile shook him down to his very core. "I would rather not," he said cautiously, taking a few steps back. 

Edward pouted sadly at Oswald, whining softly, "Oh, c'mon, _Ozzie_!" He started to take a few enticing steps towards him, chuckling happily. He ignored the real Eddie screaming inside his head, completely focused on having some fun. Maybe bend the little bird over his desk and fuck him raw until help arrived. 

The door burst wide open, Jerome waltzing in like he owned the place, flashing a little grin when he saw Penguin and his little chief of staff. "Well shit, I didn't realize this was your office, Pengy. Isn't this just a whole bouquet of whoopsie daisies!" he cackled, shrugging and motioning with his gun for Oswald to take a seat. "Little too late to turn around now, hope you don't mind too much." 

Edward eyed Jerome excitedly. My, didn't he look interesting. His expression brightened, grinning back at Oswald. He winked at his boyfriend, laughing, "Maybe he'll play with me." 

Jerome peered curiously over at Edward. Something was different; that wasn't the boring, reserved man he had met a few times over. No, not at all. This savage little beast covered in blood was something entirely different. 

Jerome took a few long strides over to Edward, leaning in way too close, getting right in that blood covered face of his. "Ooo, I don't believe we've met. You're certainly not Mr. Penguin's boring little boyfriend, are you?" he questioned, smirking wide, very, very interested in what he saw before him. That look in his eye... Jerome didn't see that in very many and my, my; was it absolutely thrilling. "How rude, I didn't properly introduce myself. Hey there, gorgeous. I'm Jerome!" 

Ed didn't mind Jerome being so close, not one bit. "Mmm, we haven't met, you can call me Eddie." He lightly traced a finger over Jerome's jaw, grinning nastily. Edward was internally repulsed to be touching that little psychopath, but his other side, his darkness; he absolutely loved it. "They don't let me out much. I can assure you, I am anything but boring. Hmmph. Looks like you've been having yourself a good ol' time, now haven't you?" 

Oswald's jaw dropped, absolutely furious at what he was seeing. Was that awful little ginger bastard flirting with Edward? He tugged out his phone while they were distracted, sending Victor a text message: 

**Come pick up your little husband. Now!!! Tearing down City Hall and flirting with Ed, but not Ed.... just get here! >:(**

Victor was on his way back into Gotham, his job for Falcone complete, when his phone went off, alerting him that he had a message. He groaned when he saw it was from Oswald. Once he was at a stoplight, he read it, his lips pressing tightly together as his blood began to boil. No, it couldn't be; Jerome would fucking never! He scowled, texting back: 

**Define 'flirting'.**

The light had changed green, the car behind him impatiently beginning to honk as he pressed send. Victor's eyes narrowed, in no mood, throwing his car into park and stepping out. He unholstered his guns, firing off a few shots into each of the rude car's front tires. He grinned, enjoying the sound of all the air hissing out and the absolute look of terror on the driver's. He shrugged, calling out, "Sorry, I was texting! Needed to finish it, and it's not good to text while driving. You know, better safe than sorry." 

Victor waved, slipping back into the driver's seat and shutting the door. He picked up his phone, glancing up at light. Damn, red again. He hesitated, texting once more: 

**Has he bitten him?**

While he waited for the light to turn again, he fiddled with the police scanner on the dashboard. He listened intently, his temper continuing to climb. Jerome was certainly misbehaving himself, wasn't he? The moment the light turned green, Victor punched the gas, rubber squealing against the pavement. He had to hurry and get downtown and he needed to have a serious heart to heart with his darling husband about boundaries. He glanced at the dash, frowning at what he heard. From the sound of it, GCPD's finest were going to beat him there. Fuck. Had to hurry. 

"Oh, I've been having an absolute _blast_ ," Jerome was saying, his eyes lighting up as this new other Edward seemed plenty on board to play. He loved that dark look Edward had now, so like this own. Jerome hadn't really been able to let that side of himself out lately, so he was more than thrilled to meet this side of Ed. He didn't hesitate to bite that blood covered finger tracing along his jaw, smirking wide up at him. "Well, you look like you are just tons of fun. Since they let you out to play, we should make sure you have a good time, hmm?" 

Jerome glanced over at Oswald, who had that perpetual grumpy look on his face, taking a few steps over and digging his gun into his cheek. "Aww, c'mon, Pengy. Don't look so grouchy. Look at your boyfriend, he's having fun," he teased, cackling when Oswald angrily swatted at his hand. He peeked over when one of his little followers came in through the door, clearly getting the wrong impression and charging towards Oswald. Jerome took a step back, smirking as he glanced over at Ed. "Eddie, would you kindly?" 

Jerome watched intently as Edward unleashed, taking that piece of chair he had broken off and savagely beating and stabbing at the thug, howling with laughter as he felt a few warm splashes of blood hit his own face in the process. "Oooh, you are fun!" he practically purred, licking at the blood over his lips. 

Edward was panting, laughing happily. This was absolutely amazing! He dropped the piece of chair he'd been holding, admiring the sight of the blood all over Jerome. "I told you I was..." He crept closer, eyeing Jerome up and down with a sly grin. The inner Edward had been almost completely silenced, his darkness in absolute and total control now. 

Meanwhile, Oswald was fuming where he sat, not sure what he was most angry with; Jerome and his little gang, this side of Edward indulging him or Victor for not keeping him locked away in a cage when he couldn't keep an eye on him. Maybe it was the blood all over one of his favorite suits. He looked at his phone, completely dumbfounded at Victor's messages. He made a face, messaging him back: 

**What the fuck kind of question is that?! D: < Although he did bite his finger.**

Oswald waited until Edward and Jerome were distracted, snapping a picture of them cozying up together and sending it to the assassin, impatiently tapping his foot. He could hear sirens off in the distance, silently breathing a sigh of relief. Well, if Victor couldn't get there first, maybe someone else would put down the rabid little monster. 

As much as he couldn't stand Jerome, Victor was his friend and he knew he would be crushed if anything happened to that stupid little ginger bastard. 

**I would hurry. GCPD is going to beat you to him.**

Oswald hit send, letting out a frustrated sigh as he glanced up to see Edward and Jerome having a grand ol' time. Even if he knew it wasn't his Edward, it still stung. 

Edward raised a hand, daring to touch Jerome's cheek as he wiped some of the blood away. "Isn't it a shame that Victor keeps you all to himself? So selfish of him!" 

Jerome couldn't hide his intrigue, knowing in the back of his mind that his beloved Victor probably wouldn't be too happy with him for playing with someone else. He especially wouldn't like that Jerome was letting him paw at his bloody cheek and flirt the way he was, or flirting back. Jerome couldn't help himself, he was intrigued. "Well, ya' know, married and all that. He's very selfish, part of his charm," he mused, unable to help himself as he reached out and ran his fingers through the blood covering Edward's cheek. 

Edward admired the feisty little red head, adding, "Far too fine a thing to keep all locked away." He leaned into Jerome's touch, chuckling softly. He was completely ignoring Oswald, all of his attention on this beautiful little madman. 

Jerome blushed, eyes locked with Ed's as he licked the blood from his fingertips, letting out a pleased little hum. " _Me_ , far too fine a thing to keep locked away? Look at you! You should be let out to play waaay more often." He smirked, the two barely inches away from one another now. 

"Oh, you naughty little thing," Edward laughed, watching Jerome's tongue intently. The tension between them was palpable, tilting his head down towards the shorter man. 

Oswald finally had to look away, an overwhelming feeling of jealousy and rage building up in his chest, not to mention a hint of fear. Jerome didn't realize, or care, about the potential danger he was putting his darling Edward in by not backing off. Certainly Victor wouldn't be happy. 

Victor roared in fury, slamming his foot against the gas pedal even harder. Ohhhh, he didn't know who he was beat the shit out of first; his darling husband or that fucking Edward. Jerome had bit him, he actually put his fucking mouth on another man in that sweet, intimate way that only the two of them shared. That picture Oswald sent him absolutely infuriated him, making his heart burn in a way he had never known. He was _jealous_. The realization only made him madder. He glared at his phone when he heard another message come through, teeth gritted together. Now he was going to have to tangle with the GCPD? Fucking great. He typed out quickly: 

**On my way.**

He threw his phone down into the floorboards, huffing angrily. He was going to need more ammo. He made a quick left turn, taking him away from City Hall. He had to make a quick stop before getting ready to face the boys in blue, plus Jerome's little gang. He sighed, his skin already starting to itch. He was going to have a lot of cuts to make later, he was sure of it. 

Jerome heard the sirens drawing close, flashing a wide grin as he heard more gunfire in the main part of the building, mixed in with chaotic screams and cops trying to get control. It was like music to his ears. Jerome Valeska thrived on creating chaos and boy, oh, boy, had he outdone himself today. 

"Victor is quite a lucky man..." Edward complimented. "I hope he knows just how fortunate he is. I would hate to see something so lovely not being treated right." Edward's mouth hung close enough to Jerome's that he could feel the other's breath, eyes flickering over his face. 

Jerome felt a familiar little stir in the pit of his stomach with Ed so close. Nowhere near the excitement he felt with his own darling little monster, but it was certainly noticeable. He licked over his own lips, tongue just barely brushing against Edward's before he pulled away. 

Jerome heard another nasty wave of gunshots, eyes moving to the door. He started giggling excitedly when he saw two very familiar officers making their way into the building. He knew enough to know Ed hated Jim Gordon, an idea popping into his head. "Wanna _really_ have some fun?" he questioned, motioning to the distant figure Detective Gordon through the open doorway. 

Edward smirked at the invitation for some more fun, pulling back as he replied, "Oh?" His eyes moved to where Jerome was looking, gritting his teeth when he saw Jim Gordon and that idiot Harvey Bullock right behind him. "Oh," he hissed viciously. " _Absolutely_." 

That little hiss filled Jerome with downright glee, that deranged little giggle falling past his lips. "Oooh, goodie!" he cackled, 

"Shall we?" Edward said, grinning wickedly, offering his arm out to Jerome. This was going to be positively delightful. He hadn't been able to get his hands on Jim Gordon for a very, very long time... and he was very much looking forward to the chance. 

Jerome laughed, happily linking his arm in Edward's, glancing back at Oswald. "Stay put, Pengy!" 

Oswald rolled his eyes, muttering to himself, more than happy to get away from the display of Jerome and his boyfriend making way too nice with one another. He started looking up dog crates on his phone, sending links to Victor along with angry little emojis. 

Harvey Bullock was cussing, a nearly indecipherable string of profanities, whipping the butt of his gun across a painted thug's face, screaming out to Jim, "This is fucking insane!" This was not how he wanted to spend the day, trying to retake damn city hall from a bunch of lunatics with Jerome Valeska at the helm of the S.S. SNAFU. Motherfucker. The mob never seemed to end; as soon as they knocked one down, two more would appear. Luckily, most of them weren't armed, but it was still hell trying to weed through them to get to the mayor's office. "Oh, but we're right down the block, Harvey! We have to go help, Harvey! We have to make sure Oswald's okay!" he started mocking, knowing his damn partner could never stay away from where the action was. 

Harvey knew his partner all too well. As soon as he had heard the dispatch call over the radio, Jim was practically dragging Harvey headfirst towards the mob; especially once he heard it was Jerome's little gang. 

"Jim!" Harvey yelled out, seeing one of the thugs about to swing a baseball bat at the back of partner's head. He dove over, driving an elbow into the man's face and taking him to the ground. He took the bat, smacking him a few good times with it. He grinned up at Jim, laughing, "Better watch that fine ass a little closer, partner." 

Jim glanced up in the heat of all the action, throwing punch after punch, seeing Harvey had saved him from certainly being knocked out. "That's what I've got you for, isn't it?" he called out, kicking one of the thugs away from Harvey hard. 

"Yeah, yeah! I'm here to fuck you silly and save your ass!" Harvey snapped, grunting from the effort of trying to fight back. Fuck! There were too fucking many of them and their fellow boys in blue were dropping fast. Some were simply running. "Fuckin' cowards! When we get the fuck out of here, each and every one of you is gonna suck my fuckin' dick! Goddammit!" he screamed after them. 

There was so much chaos and despite keeping a vigilant eye, Jerome and Ed managed to get the drop on Jim. Jerome crept up beside him and busted Jim in the side of his head with his gun. He giggled, watching Jim instantly crumble. He glanced around, seeing they still had the upper hand, and oh, that panicked look on Bullock's face? Priceless. 

Harvey hadn't seen Jerome and Ed, slithering up like snakes, until it was too late. "Fuck! Jim!" Harvey shouted, seeing his beloved partner go down. 

"Hold this one down! Make him watch!" Jerome commanded with a smirk, motioning to Harvey, gripping a rather limp Jim by the hair and giving him a nasty little shake. "And close the door, yeah? Kill any cops that are left inside!" 

Jim's vision was fuzzy, unable to find his footing, letting out a little hiss as Jerome grabbed him by the hair hard while a few of his crew held his arms and legs, others diving at Harvey. Everything was happening so fast and quickly descending into madness. 

Harvey ripped through the first few creeps that tried to hold him down, his gun taken, his heart tearing in half. No, no, no, this wasn't fucking happening. He had to save him! He felt sick, trying desperately to get to Jim. He cringed, hearing a crash of gunfire from behind them as the remaining officers were all gunned down on Jerome's orders. Fuck, fuck, fuck. They were so completely fucked! 

"Oh, poor Jimbo," Edward taunted, smiling nastily. He couldn't express how much he enjoyed seeing Jim trapped like this and watching Harvey struggle was a total delight. "We are going to have so much fun! It's a GCPD reunion! Hmm. Although, I suppose." He grinned. "It's really going to be more a wake for ol' Jimmy." 

Harvey managed to get close enough to smell Edward's breath; if no one else, he would take that skinny fuck down with him even he had to kill him with his bare hands. "You fucking bastard, don't you fucking touch him! I swear to God, Ed, I will fucking kill you!" He didn't have a chance to lay a single finger on him, the thugs regrouping and pulling the bull back. It took four of them to hang on, Harvey fighting the whole time and never letting up. One of them kicked Harvey sideways in the knee, dropping him down, and the others clinging tight. "Fuck you!" Harvey spat. 

Edward pouted dramatically at Harvey, sighing, "Aww, so close, and yet? So far! Don't worry, Harvey; we won't forget about you. Jim is just _extra_ special to me and my new friend here." 

Jerome clapped his hands together, giggling as he flashed a wicked grin at Edward. "Please, you first, Eddie!" 

Edward cackled with Jerome, leaning in and taking his new friend's hand, planting a sweet little kiss upon it. "Oh, _Jerome_. You are just too kind." He let his eyes wander shamelessly over his new friend, smiling softly. How lovely, indeed. 

Jerome giggled at the kiss, licking over his lips at the way Edward's eyes roamed over him. 

Edward sauntered over to Jim, crouching down in front of him. He reached out and gave the detective's hair a little ruffle, giggling, "Oh, Jimbo. It's been so, so very long." His dark eyes danced over Jim's face, thrilled to have his great enemy completely at his mercy. 

Edward stood up, his face twisting up with rage as he began to let himself go, reeling back and punching Jim right in the face. He hit him again and again, not stopping until he saw blood gushing from his mouth and nose, laughing hysterically. "Ohhhh! This is for Arkham, this is for ruining our life, this is for everything you've done to me! Pretending to be our friend and mocking us behind our back! You disgust me!" He paused, gasping to catch his breath. He reached down, slapping Jim cruelly across the cheek, laughing, "Still want to be a hero, Jimmy boy? Gonna be real hard to save anyone from a cemetery!" 

Jim was fighting to stay conscious, struggling to free himself from the firm hold on his arms, legs and head. Did Ed just say 'our'? Was he talking about he and Jerome? As far as he knew, they didn't really know one another. And that look in his eyes, it was like nothing Jim had ever seen before; this was not the Edward Nygma he knew; he was something far, far worse. He could feel the blood pouring from his mouth and nose, one eye swelling shut, gasping hard for air as Jerome began to repeatedly kick him in the ribs and stomach, the sounds Harvey yelling and deranged laughter beginning to mash together. This couldn't be it. This couldn't be how it ended. "P-Please... stop," he gasped, surprising himself at his pathetic plea. 

Every punch made Harvey's stomach twist, trying to get back on his feet. He managed to get an arm free, only to have it snatched back down. "You fucking cowardly pricks! Fuckin' stop it! I will fucking skull fuck you, you fucking crazy four eyed fucking douchebag! Why don't you come over and fight me, you fucking bean pole shit stains!" He growled, still trying to break free. He roared in frustration, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. He couldn't stand watching Jim take such a beating, there was so much blood already. It hurt so fucking much; if Edward and Jerome kept going like this, they were gonna kill him. Fuck this, he had to save him! Harvey didn't give in, he didn't stop, he kept trying to fight his way free, no matter how pointless it was. 

A dark, terrifying smirk spread across Jerome's face, licking the splattered blood from his lips as he strolled over to Harvey, grabbing a handful of long red hair and yanking it hard. He leaned in so close that his breath was hot against his ear as spoke, forcing him to look at his bloodied lover. "Now, why would we fight you when it's so much more fun to make you watch?" he hissed, dark, cold laughter falling past his lips, finding the tears falling over the bull's face completely priceless. 

Harvey tried and failed to jerk his head away from Jerome, glaring furiously up at him. His very touch disgusted him, being so close made his fucking skin crawl, growling. He kept fighting, even as his arms began to burn from the exertion, threatening to fall limp at his sides, he kept trying. He spat right in Jerome's face, roaring, "Don't you dare fucking touch him!" 

Jerome cackled, calmly wiping off his cheek and not hesitating at all to bash his forehead right into the bull's, that wicked grin never faltering. "As enjoyable as that was, for that, I'm gonna take it _nice_ and slow with you," he growled, yanking at his hair harder. 

"Bring it on, you crazy bitch," Harvey snapped defiantly, his eyes squinting from the force of blow. Let it not be said that Harvey Bullock's last few words would not be something to remember. 

"Oh, hang on! It's not your turn yet! Don't worry, I will," Jerome promised, laughing. He looked back to Edward and a barely conscious Jim. His eyes lingered on the blood covered and deliciously unhinged Ed. "Why don't you cut up that pretty face before you kill him?" he suggested, digging his knee into Harvey's spine. He waved at one of his minions, snapping his fingers, demanding, "You! Knife! Something big and sexy." He leered down at Harvey, snickering, "Come on, Detective Bullock... you'll never forgive yourself if you don't get one last good look at that handsome lover boy of yours before we kill him, hmm." 

Harvey fell back on his knees, groaning in pain, desperately looking over at Jim. It was fucking hopeless, he realized, fighting back a sob. No, it couldn't end like this. Tears kept falling, unable to look away from Jim. He tried to be brave, his voice shaking as he snarled up at Jerome, "Go fuck your fucking mother, you piece of shit." He swallowed hard, gazing over sorrowfully at his partner, choking out, "Jim, I'm so fucking sorry. _I love you_." 

Jim was not a man who scared easily, but fuck, he was genuinely terrified. It seemed like this was really it, he was going to die at the hands of Edward Nygma in the center of City Hall, surrounded by deranged lunatics and thugs. But the worst part? The worst part was Harvey. He didn't deserve to go through this. Not at all. Jim could hear the hope fading in his voice, see the despair in his eyes. Tears were streaming down his own face, his voice cracking as he looked at his lover. "I love you, too, Harvey," he choked out, wanting nothing more than to break free and crawl into his partner's arms. 

Harvey's resolve faltered when he heard Jim's voice break. He pressed his lips together, his eyes never leaving Jim's. Fuck. 

Edward started cackling, gushing, "Oh! Isn't that just fucking precious. Mmm. I would say I felt sorry for you, but... Oh, I'm not!" He was delighted when one of Jerome's thugs came up beside him, offering him a large Bowie knife. He laughed, impressed and surprised how obedient they were to Jerome. He flashed the knife around. "Big and sexy, indeed. Perfect for our pretty Jimbo." 

"Edward fuckin' Nygma," Harvey hissed with every ounce of hate he could muster. "I fucking swear I will kill you." 

"Mmm," Edward mused, not phased at all, continuing to toy with the knife. "That's gonna be kinda hard since you're gonna be dead in just a few minutes. You know, once you watch ol' Jimbo here die." He grabbed Jim up by his hair, humming softly, tracing the tip of the knife along his cheek hard enough to draw blood, smiling wickedly. This was delicious. "We'll cut a few pieces off and then," he paused, sighing in a deep and intense satisfied way, almost sounding sexual, purring, "I'm going to slit your throat." 

Jim let out a hiss at the cut, his heart pounding away in his chest, the fear really beginning to set in. He kept his eyes locked on Harvey's, trying so God damned hard to just focus on him, desperate to ignore Ed's taunting and Jerome's laughter. 

Harvey panicked, trying to overcome his captors once more. If one broke loose, more came to hold him down. Harvey closed his eyes, praying to whatever fucking God might be listening for some fucking help; please don't let this happen. Fuck, they needed a miracle. 

Gunshots rang out from the back of city hall; perhaps not the miracle Harvey was expecting, but the Lord worked in mysterious ways. 

" _JEROME!_ " It was a howling roar, echoing loudly, more gunshots popping off, more screaming. " _WHERE ARE YOU, JEROME?!_ " 

Edward hesitated, frowning as pushed Jim aside, the knife forgotten. He stepped towards Jerome's side, curious at who was responsible for all the fuss. He dared put an arm around his new friend, excited to see who was coming to visit them. 

Jim was beyond surprised when suddenly he found him himself tossed down against the floor. He had never been so happy to hear that voice; he knew exactly who it was and perhaps his only hope to leave here in one piece. He collapsed against the ground, curling up in a pool of his own blood, gasping. 

Harvey tried to jump up and get to Jim when Edward let him go, but the thugs were still holding tight. He knew that voice as well, waiting for the owner the appear. He watched everything around him attentively, hoping for a chance to make a break and get to Jim; this was going to get nasty. 

The sleek figure of Victor Zsasz came stalking towards them from a back hallway, both guns drawn and ready. His chest was heaving, his eyes wild with rage. The entire drive over here all he had done was stew and his anger had festered into a nasty cancer, completely consumed him. The thugs all parted to make way, they knew exactly who he was and to stand clear, but one wasn't fast enough. He got tripped up around Victor's feet and tried to crawl away. Victor snarled, aiming right at him and putting two slugs right in the poor bastard's head. 

When Victor saw Jerome and Ed standing there together, both so happy and covered in blood, he nearly snapped on the spot. All he saw was a blur of red and he wanted to shoot them both. He howled again, digging the grips of his guns into his forehead, baring his teeth and gnashing them together in his fury. "What the _FUCK_ are you fucking doing! You're, you're fucking around on me with _him_?!" 

"Baby, you're back!" Jerome felt that excitement in his stomach building at the sound of his husband's voice, his tone so vicious. Oooo, did his darling little monster want to join in on the fun? He didn't really think twice about Edward's arm hooked around his waist, grinning wide as his husband came closer. What was that look in his eyes? Was he... jealous? 

Victor holstered his guns as he approached, too afraid he may use them. 

Jerome cocked his head to the side curiously, leaning in once Victor was close enough and pressing a kiss to his neck. He bit down happily, giving a little pout as he pulled back. "We were just playing! Have you two met? He's much more fun than boring, regular Ed! I think you'd really like him, he's /tons/ of fun!" He grinned, not really understanding exactly what he was doing wrong. He reached out and pulled Victor in closer, Edward still holding an arm around his waist as Jerome's hips pressed into his husband's. "I missed you!" he cooed, again, as if nothing was the matter. 

Victor hissed, shoving Jerome away, absolutely repulsed by his touch. "Fuck you! Don't you dare stand there and say you fucking missed me! You clearly didn't miss me that much! You fucking dirty slut! 

Jerome actually pouted when Victor pushed him away, Ed's grip on waist keeping him steadied, his temper starting to flare as his little monster called him a slut. His eyes narrowed, arms folding over his chest. What was this feeling building up in his chest? Were his feelings hurt? "Fuck you! Stop acting like a jealous little bitch over nothing! I've been very well behaved and made it clear I'm married," he snapped, only able to respond to that hurt feeling with anger. 

"Over nothing. Nothing? Licking and biting is fucking nothing?" Victor was absolutely flabberfasted, continuing to shout, "Do you understand what the word 'nothing' means? You put your fucking mouth on me after you've had it only God knows where on him?!" 

"Oh, don't worry," Edward assured him with a sinister chuckle. "His mouth hasn't gone too far _yet_." He playfully bumped him hip against Jerome's, smirking smugly at the assassin. He wasn't the least bit bothered by Zsasz, enjoying his new friend's company far too much to care. 

Jerome had to admit, he was intrigued when Edward didn't back down. He hadn't met anyone who wasn't intimidated at all by his husband, especially when he was angry like this. 

" _You_..." Victor's eyes narrowed into venomous slits, scanning over Edward's face. He was wondering what the color of his brains would look like on the floor; maybe pink with a bit of gray, maybe a tad fleshy and white? He could see the shift in the taller man, he could tell that this was the dark personality everyone was so fearful of. He scoffed, nostrils flaring as he snarled, "Ooohh, no. We've haven't met yet, have we? Huh. You look just like the other Ed; a sniveling little bitch." 

Edward's cheerful demeanor froze, his expression hardening. His grip tightened on Jerome's waist, his voice low as he hissed, "I really don't like being called names." 

"Oh? Is that a fact?" Victor sneered. He looked thoughtful, tapping his chin, letting out a little hum before barking back, "Sort of sounds like something a little fucking bitch would say!" 

As things started to escalate, Jerome took a step back to watch. He sucked at his lower lip as the gears started to turn and he realized they were fighting over him. He could practically smell the fire burning between them. His mind wandered for a moment, lingering on the thought of being trapped between them in a much more fun way, grinning. Even if this was going to be a huge fight for he and Victor, it was kind of really hot. What could be say? He liked the attention. 

Edward stepped up to Victor at his full height to stare him down. He smiled, nasty and wild, his voice a horrible whisper as he hissed, "If you had just waited another few minutes to arrive, I would have been busy making your sweet little husband my bitch." 

"Yup," Victor said with a sigh, surprisingly calm. He sighed, slowly turning his head from side to side, popping his neck. He smiled, wide and terrible, pulling out his gun, quick as a blink, jamming the barrel against Edward's forehead. "You're dead." 

Jerome shoved himself between the two of them, not wanting his new little friend dead quite yet. After all, he didn't make friends very often, especially ones who were so much fun. Besides, Oswald wouldn't be too happy with his darling little monster if he killed his boyfriend. "Cupcake, I would probably think twice about putting down sweet little Eddie. I don't think Mr. Penguin would be too happy with you," he warned, that charming tone in his voice. 

Jim was still in a bit of a daze, his breathing ragged as he watched from the floor, baffled at what he was seeing. Were Victor and Edward fighting over Jerome? Every time he thought things couldn't get weirder in Gotham, somehow they always did. He did his best to inch toward Harvey, hissing at the sharp sting in his side. Yup, definitely a couple busted ribs. 

Harvey noticed the thugs were distracted, watching the fight going down between their precious leader and his would-be ménage a trois. He groaned lightly, utterly disgusted. But it gave him a chance to finally break away, dropping elbows until he grabbed Jim. He pulled him protectively into his lap, ripping off his tie and pressing it against his cheek to stave off the bleeding. "I got you," he whispered, holding him close. 

The thugs didn't bother grabbing for Harvey again. They were all too busy enjoying the show to care about the cops. After all, where could they have tried to go? 

Jim curled himself up against Harvey's chest, immediately feeling a sense of safety in his arms, leaning into his touch when he attempted to stop the bleeding. "You always do," he replied with a weak little smile, his hand settling on top of his partner's. 

Victor snarled at Jerome, furious at him for intervening. He stuck his face right in his husband's, sneering, "Fuck sweet little Eddie, fuck Penguin, and fuck you." 

"Please?" Jerome taunted, eager to press his buttons some more and biting at his jaw. "No, like seriously. Pengy is already nice and grumpy because of the whole, you know, destroying his office thing." 

Victor whined when Jerome bit him, sighing miserably. It felt so good and nice and warm; but then he remembered what Jerome had been doing with his mouth and shoved him away. He put his gun away, puffing up his cheeks and holding his breath so he wouldn't scream. "Don't. Fucking. Touch. Me." He had to spit out each word, taking deep breaths in between. "I am fucking mad at you right now, I don't even want to fucking look at you." 

As far as Jerome was concerned, he really had been behaving. He didn't think he had crossed any major lines. Sure, Ed had kissed his hand and they had been a little too close in each other's personal space. The worst thing he had done was biting Edward's fingers and not shoving him away when he put his arm around him. But, friends did that stuff, right? Jerome was convinced that Victor more had actually happened. 

Edward laughed, absolutely delighted at Victor's fury. If this really was a fight for Jerome's affections, he felt very confident that he was winning. He could tell how upset Jerome was with Victor's reaction and decided to take full advantage of it. He reached out and snatched Jerome's hips, pulling him back towards him. He kept his eyes locked with Victor's, taunting him, leaning in and biting Jerome's neck. 

Jerome was fuming with how cross Victor was with him, angry that his usual charms that normally won his husband over weren't working at all. He was angry enough that when Edward grabbed him, he didn't stop him. He even let his eyes flutter shut for a moment, giggling at the bite. "Maybe if you weren't being such a jealous asshole, I would've shoved Eddie away for this," he snarled at his husband. 

"You see?! That!" Victor roared, staring dumbly at his husband. How the fuck was Jerome not getting this. "That is not fucking okay. It's not fucking okay when it's some piece of shit in the club grabbing your ass and it's not okay right now just because you fucking like the attention. You really don't fucking understand, Jerome. If I fucking did that, you'd..." Victor trailed off, lips drawn thin in thought as inspiration struck. Jerome had always been a very visual person and Victor had a mind to give him a fucking visual he would never forget. Victor huffed, glancing around at his possible options. Oswald? Little weird, also hiding in his office still. Harvey? Heard he was hung like a mule, but eh, that beard. Gross. That made Jim the lucky winner. He stalked over, hissing quietly, "I'm borrowing him." 

"The fuck you are," Harvey snapped, his arms tightening around Jim. 

Victor's approach made Jim's heart pound a bit harder in his chest, grateful for Harvey immediately being so protective when the assassin wanted to take him out on loan. 

"Let me," Victor insisted, eyeing Jim with a crooked smile. "Make it convincing and I will even let you both leave alive." 

Jim glanced up at his partner; leaving this nightmare with a pulse sounded like a fair deal. They didn't exactly have many other options. There was no sign of the GCPD outside, still no doubt trying to regroup. He was willing to take a chance. He gave a little nod, letting out a little 'oof' as Victor hoisted him up to his feet. "Make what convincing?" 

Victor glanced back at Jerome, batting his eyes coyly. He leaned in, kissing Jim passionately. He made sure to slip his tongue into his mouth, making it as hot and sexy as he possibly could. He held him tightly at his waist, softly running his gloved fingers through Jim's hair. He was surprised; Jim Gordon was actually a rather good kisser. 

Jim didn't offer any resistance, feverishly brushing against his own, lewdly moaning into their kiss. Jim was shocked at how pleasant it actually was, though he would never admit it out loud. He did as he was told, made it as convincing as he could. He reached down, grabbing a firm handful of Victor's ass and squeezing tight. 

Harvey felt his blood boiling, utterly miserable. He briefly wondered what was worse, thinking he was about to watch Jim die or having to watch him swap spit with Victor fucking Zsasz. Fucking great. He scowled, thinking maybe Jim was giving a little too good of a performance. 

Victor slowly pulled away, running his tongue lovingly over the side of Jim's face. He nuzzled his cheek, getting good and bloody. His eyes flickered over the detective's, a genuine hint of affection curling his lips into a little smile. "Hmm, you're much sweeter than I thought you would be, Jim." 

Jim made sure Jerome could see his smile, batting his eyes with a playful, convincing affection. "Maybe we'll do that again sometime, Victor." Jim didn't actually mean that last bit, but it was all part of this ridiculous show Victor was trying to sell. If it worked, and it meant living? It would be worth it. 

"Maybe we will," Victor said, smirking. He dropped Jim back into Harvey's waiting arms, commenting, "Better hang onto that one, Harvey. Someone might try to snatch up your little boy scout one day." 

"You bet your ass I'm hangin' on." Harvey grumpily held Jim close, running a hand through his hair. He really did not like having to watch that little show. It had to be done, he supposed. Shit. If it got them out safely, fuck, Harvey would have fucking rimmed Victor Zsasz in front of God and everybody. A kiss wasn't so bad of a price to pay for freedom. 

Victor whirled around to face his husband, grinning savagely. "Oh, don't worry, baby. We were just playing around, no big deal. _Right_?" 

Jerome had watched his husband's little display silently, his blood boiling beneath his skin as he watched that stupid detective and his husband lock lips in the same kind of kiss that Jerome had only ever shared with Victor. He was furious in a way he had never been before, glaring vicious little daggers at his husband. "Fuck. You," he spat, deciding two could play at that game. 

Jerome didn't hesitate another moment, tilting his head back against Edward's shoulder and reaching up with one hand to pull him in for a rough kiss, all tongue and teeth. His other hand took one of Edward's from his hip, guiding it down over the bulge in his jeans, making him palm over his already rock hard cock. It was a filthy display, Jerome grabbing a fistful of Edward's hair to deepen the kiss, his ass grinding back against Edward's cock, daring his husband to put a stop to it. 

Edward let out a happy chuckle, eagerly kissing Jerome back. Now, this was more like it. He could sense Victor glaring and it only made him kiss his new friend harder. He gasped when he felt Jerome's cock, lewdly purring, "You are so fucking hard..." 

This had gone far enough. Victor charged over to them, his lean frame shaking with his rage. The cuddling and biting were horrible on their own, but watching that thing paw at his husband, kissing him, it was too much. Victor whipped out his gun, having to use every bit of will power he had not to pull the trigger. He flipped it around, smashing the butt right into the side of Edward's head. He more than enjoyed the sight of the tall man crumbling to the floor, his sights now fixed on Jerome. 

Jerome had been very caught up in the kissing and groping, determined to make his husband just as angry as he had been, if not more, for that little display. His attention snapped immediately to Victor as Edward collapsed. His eyes narrowed into bitter, angry little slits. 

"You're fucking hard for him?" Victor demanded, shoving his gun back in its holster. "For _him_?" 

"What can I say? He's a good kisser," Jerome challenged, grinning madly. 

"Oooh, baby. No, no, no." He grabbed Jerome by his hips, shoving him roughly towards one of the nearby desks. He didn't care how much Jerome fought back; he was better trained and despite his fury, much more focused. He grabbed Jerome's arm from behind, twisting it around to his back, biting his neck until he tasted blood. His other arm snaked around to his pants, grabbing his cock through the fabric with a sour hiss. "This, _this_ is fucking mine." 

Jerome was so angry, but there was no way he could ignore the way Victor's forcefulness sent that very familiar thrill ringing throughout his body. He growled, fighting hard against his husband's grip, jerking wildly beneath him as he was shoved against the desk. He let out a hiss as he felt the skin breaking on his neck, unable to hide his groans as his Victor groped and grinded against him. 

Victor bent Jerome face first over the desk, using his weight to keep him pinned into place. He grinded into his husband, growling pleasurably. His dick was at strict attention, all the rage and jealousy was a strangely effective aphrodisiac. He couldn't remember the last time he wanted to fuck Jerome so badly. He bit again at the back of his neck, his hand busting the zipper of his pants and wiggling them and his underwear down over his ass. "Every fucking bit of you is mine, for me to touch, not for fucking any one else, not fucking ever." 

Jerome was slowly losing the fight, wanting to be too angry to let Victor have much of anything. But he couldn't deny the way how possessive his husband was being made his body ache, suddenly becoming more and more desperate for his husband. 

Victor pulled his cock out, barely giving it a splash of spit before ramming it into him. He hissed at the burn, continuing to thrust until he forced his cock all the way in. He kept his teeth latched onto Jerome's shoulder, moaning softly as he started smashing his hips into him. He didn't care there was a crowd of Jerome's followers, or Jim or Harvey, or even if Oswald dared peek out. Let them all fucking watch. "Mine," Victor repeated, his voice hoarse, keeping Jerome's arm pinned up tight. "Always, forever, mine." 

Jerome let out a loud moan as Victor's cock tore into him, rough and practically dry. It hurt and felt like he was being torn in two and fuck, Jerome loved every last second of it. "Fuck, yours. All yours," Jerome gasped out, that violent pace leaving him writhing against the desk, fighting so hard to meet every thrust, but he was entirely at his little monster's mercy, barely able to move. He didn't care who saw, he was loving every last second of being fucked so harshly against that desk, moaning shamelessly. 

"That's right," Victor seethed, never letting up. " _Mine_." Satisfied that Jerome wouldn't try to resist any longer, he released his arm. His hand reached out and snatched a handful of that pretty red hair, his other hand pawing at his hips, pulling him back for every violent thrust. He grinned, panting as he listened to Jerome's cries of passion. It only encouraged him to fuck him harder, the desk scooting a little bit across the floor from a particularly nasty slam. 

Harvey couldn't help himself; he couldn't fucking look away. "Whoa. It's like... Fucking National Geographic shit," he whispered to Jim. 

Jim peeked up from where his head was laid against Harvey's chest, nose scrunched up as he watched the violently, albeit rather hot display before him. Nobody could say those two weren't passionate about one another. "What... why are we watching?" he whispered right back. 

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm looking for purely research purposes," Harvey chuckled, smiling naughtily, ever trying to find the humor in their dire situation. "Maybe I'll learn somethin'?" He waggled his eyebrows, snorting bitterly. "What else the fuck can we do. We're still fucking surrounded by these fucks." 

"What are you gonna learn from that? The bizarre mating displays of deranged psychopaths?" Jim mused, shaking his head and letting out a soft sigh. 

"I don't know yet! That's why I gotta keep watching!" Harvey insisted. 

Victor's eyes glanced over, happening to notice Jim watching him. He smiled wide, winking his way, letting his gaze linger for more than what was probably comfortable for the dear detective. 

"Did fuckin' Victor just wink at you?" Harvey grumbled. 

Jim couldn't help but flush, feeling a bit uncomfortable. He shook his head as he laughed softly, wincing at the sharp sting in his ribs, leaning into Harvey's touch. Only in fucking Gotham. 

Victor's rage couldn't be sated, he was still so angry. He smacked Jerome's ass hard enough to leave a large, red welt, grunting hoarsely. He smacked him again, and again, growling, "No one else will ever fucking touch you again, do you fucking understand me?" He pulled Jerome up by hair so he was almost standing, Victor's teeth finding that tender spot on his neck he had bitten earlier. He kissed and sucked at the blood he found, his eyes closing tight. He sought out Jerome's ear, sighing into it, "You're mine, I can't, _unnnh_ , I can't be without you. No one else will ever have you!" It was sweet, or at least as endearing as Victor could manage to be savagely fucking him raw. 

Jerome anger was very quickly fading however, each harsh smack against his ass causing him to cry out, squirming beneath his husband. It felt like a punishment and reward all wrapped up into one. When Victor yanked him up by his hair, he couldn't help but whimper, letting out a ragged pant. Somewhere, between the rush of being fucked raw, the hint of anger still lingering and the overwhelming pleasure of it all, Jerome slowly began to realize what this was. He had hurt his little monster? He felt a very unfamiliar pang in the pit of his stomach. Was that... was that guilt? 

"I'm yours. All yours. You won't ever be without me." Jerome assured him, taking his husband's hand, putting it at his throat, squeezing his fingers around it. He knew Victor knew he was the only one allowed anywhere near his neck with his hands. He was the only one allowed to bring him to the edge of that darkness ever again. His other hand slipped down to grip his cock, stroking quickly in time with his husband's harsh thrusts, already close. 

Victor let out a pleased little grunt, his fingers eagerly crushing his neck. He knew how special this was, that only Victor was trusted enough to touch Jerome there. It was such a simple act, any of the onlookers would have no appreciation for what made it so intimate. Victor's fingertips brushed over the thick scar where Galavan had stabbed him, whimpering gently. His husband had been to the other side and back again, the scar a testament to his triumphant resurrection. His monster was a truly amazing creature. 

"Not yet," Victor hissed in his ear, a gloved hand snaking around and grabbing Jerome's hand away. It was part of his punishment, Victor had decided, to deny his orgasm. He wrapped a gloved hand around his husband's length, keeping it tortuously still. "You don't come until I say you can," Victor snarled. He knew it wouldn't be long before he reached his own end. There was something so thrilling about all of this that made his blood pump extra hard. 

Jerome let out a choked little groan as Victor's fingers squeezed at his neck, a shiver running down his spine as that darkness crept up on the edges of his vision from the lack of air. He gave a guttural, gasped little growl as his hand was snatched away, feeling a brief flash of anger. That hand wrapped so tightly around his throat kept him in a very submissive headspace, so he simply gave a little nod. 

Jerome's followers were all watching, a few even cheering; Victor loved it, his hand squeezing tight around Jerome's throat as his orgasm began to take over his body. Fuck! Every muscle tensed, his head snapping back as he moaned. He pumped into Jerome, savagely tearing into him for every last shiver of his climax. He panted, letting out a loud and happy groan, smiling wide. He was still erect, finally starting to stroke Jerome as he continued to ram into him, squeezing his throat and purring lovingly, "Now, baby... Come for me." 

It was torture, being so close and forced to wait to come, especially with the thrill of all those eyes on them. Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long, groaning as he felt that familiar, brutal snap of Victor's hips, that loud groan as he came making Jerome's cock twitch. Within a few little strokes, he was coming hard all over that leather glove, gasping for air through that tight grip on his throat, his head fuzzy from the intensity of his orgasm coupled with the lack of air. 

Harvey looked relieved when Jerome and Victor appeared to be finishing up. He ran a hand gingerly over Jim's busted face, hating to see him so hurt. He wanted to tell Jim how scared he had been, how terrified he felt when he thought for a moment he was going to actually lose him. This wasn't the place nor the time. "We need to get you to a fucking doctor." 

"I don't need a doctor, I'll be fine, Harv," Jim retorted stubbornly. "I'm just a little busted up is all." 

"Yeah, fucking right. A little?" Harvey said, rolling his eyes. "You fucking dumbass, your nose is probably broken. I know your ribs are." He sighed, bowing his head and kissing his forehead sweetly. "I'll take you home, okay? The fucking moment we get the fuck out of here, Dr. Harvey is on the fucking case." 

"Not my first set of broken ribs, won't be the last," Jim replied, smiling softly as he felt his partner's lips, nuzzling against his chest. "Home sounds good, Dr. Harvey. Home sounds really fucking good." 

Jim wanted to get the hell out of there, glad he and Harvey were making it out of there alive. Sure, he was beat up pretty badly, but they were leaving in one piece; provided Victor kept his word. He had been so genuinely scared for a few moments there that neither of them would walk back through those doors. 

Victor planted soft kisses along Jerome's neck, chuckling softly. Sex for them was always extremely intense and this had been no exception, perhaps even having a set a new standard. He let out a deep breath, greedily licking Jerome's come from off his glove. He turned his husband around, still gently holding him by his neck, kissing him passionately. "Mmph," he grunted, "I love you..." He readjusted Jerome's pants for him, pulling them back up and fastening them into place. His own were next, sighing as he did them up. His voice was a touch forlorn as he said, "You really hurt me, Jerome. But, I've decided I can be persuaded to forgive you." He smiled, tenderly touching his husband's cheek, kissing him again. 

"I love you, too," Jerome replied against Victor's lips. There it was again, that little pang in his stomach when Victor admitted he had hurt him. Yup. Jerome Valeska was feeling real, genuine guilt for the first time in his life. Sure, he had felt bad with the whole getting locked up in Arkham again, thing. This was different. Something he did actually hurt his darling little monster. His eyes lit up when he heard he could be forgiven, flashing a playful little grin. "Ooh, any kind of persuading your little heart desires, cupcake." 

Victor heard a loud slam, eye flickering to the doors. Jerome's men had shut it up tight and created a make shift barricade out of some of the furniture. It seemed the GCPD had finally regrouped outside and were making another attempt to retake City Hall. The doors kept shaking, the officers on the other side trying to break through. He kissed Jerome hurriedly, taking his hand and starting to lead him towards the back hallway where he had come in before. "I think that's our cue to boogie, baby doll." 

Victor glanced over towards Harvey and Jim. He tilted his head, exchanging a little glance with Jerome. He knew his dear husband might still have ideas of finishing what he and Edward had started. He smiled, teasing, "Let's go home, baby. We can always play another day. Jimbo was such a good sport, after all." He gave Jim a little wave, smiling brightly. 

Jerome's eyes did narrow at Jim for a moment, not forgetting the he wanted to rip his throat open for touching and kissing his husband. He grit his teeth as he listened to Victor's reasoning, giving Jim's face rough pat as he was lead away. "Guess it's your lucky day, Jimbo!" he called out, Victor taking his hand and leading him away. 

Harvey could see the writing on the wall as Victor and Jerome high tailed it out of there. Good guys banging on the door, bad guys waiting on the other side; maybe they'd all run, but maybe there was gonna be another fucking battle. He curled his big arms around Jim, holding him tight to his chest and standing up. He shifted, making sure he had an arm securely under his partner's knees and his back, grunting, "C'mon. Let's get the fuck out of here." 

Harvey carried Jim towards the back of city hall, certain there had to be an exit somewhere they could use to get out of the potential fray. As he passed Edward's unconscious body, he paused, hacking and spitting a giant glob of snot right on his face. "Fucker," he snorted bitterly. 

He hurried to find a door, grateful for the sensation of freedom and fresh air once they made it safely outside. 

Jim normally would have tried to insist walking out on his own, but fuck, it had been a shit day and he was certainly play down how badly hurt he really was. He gave a little nod, keeping a form hold on Harvey as they made their way out the door, relieved once they were away from the chaos finally. 

Harvey leaned his forehead against Jim's, completely relieved. He smiled, moving towards more friendly space, towards the flashing lights and police cars. "Dr. Harvey says it's fucking time for a hot bath and some whiskey." He kissed Jim, suddenly desperate and fervent. Fuck, he could have lost him today. He didn't even want to think about it, only wanting to kiss Jim; he was here, they were okay. 

Jim laughed softly at Harvey's suggestion, about to respond when suddenly he was kissing him. Now that he knew they were okay, the full realization of just how close he had come to losing his life really setting in. He kissed Harvey back hard, a hand coming up to rest against the back of his neck. 

Harvey sighed, his partner had tasted so fucking good before. There was so much he wanted to say, but expression himself was not one of Harvey's strengths. He smirked, his good humor returning as he teased, "Maybe even a quick trip to the evidence locker downtown for the good shit." 

Jim rested his forehead against Harvey's, chuckling softly. "Whiskey and a bath sounds good. Maybe no raiding the evidence locker," he mused, ready to go home with Harvey and call it a night. 

"I do what I want," Harvey said stubbornly, a gentle smile tumbling over his lips. He made his way to his car, ignoring the throngs of cops and the stampede of questions coming at them. He did his best to serve his function as acting captain, but all he wanted to do was fucking leave. He gave a quick statement, anything to get all of the vultures off his back. 

Harvey was quick to name the officers that fled while he and James were in danger, still very well aware of how close they come to leaving in body bags. His only concern now was getting Jim back home. And probably, maybe, one little quick trip by the evidence locker for his beloved partner. He may have told Harvey no, but Doctor Harvey was insisting. The whole drive back, Harvey kept a hand close to Jim, grateful if for nothing else that's he was able to feel him breathing. 

Victor had figured the rear exit he had used to enter would no doubt be soon clogged up with more cops and Jerome's thugs trying to escape. He had dipped into one of the many offices, tugging Jerome close behind him. He popped open a window, taking a quick glance around outside to make sure their way was clear. He nimbly jumped out, turning around and offering his arm to help Jerome. 

Jerome took Victor's arm as he pounced out of the window, giggling happily as they easily made their way around the rest of the GCPD, his little mob certainly distracting enough for them to make their get away. 

Victor smiled happily, biting at his husband's neck. His car was parked just around the corner, safely out of sight from Gotham's finest. He opened Jerome's door for him, smacking at his ass. He snickered to himself, walking around the car and taking his place in the driver's seat. He cranked the car, pausing as he reached down to grab his phone from where had thrown it earlier. 

Victor laughed at all the angry text messages Oswald had sent him, smirking at Jerome and asking, "So, how do you feel about being put in a dog crate the next time I have to leave for work? Maybe just a leash?" 

Jerome happily hopped into the passenger side, letting out a genuinely amused little snicker as he glanced back over at his husband, shrugging passively. "Eh, I could be into it if you were home," he giggled, his hand reaching over and giving Victor's thigh a squeeze. 

Victor's smile lit up, chuckling darkly. "Maybe it can be part of your great effort to earn my forgiveness? I have to admit, a leash does sound particularly persuading." He sent Oswald a quick text message, assuring him that he had been able to dissuade Edward from messing with Jerome any more. He also warned him that the cops would soon be upon them. He threw the car into gear, racing safely away from all of the chaos. 

Oswald had been sitting up in his office, deciding that he would rather wait for all of this to be over with than watch the other side of Ed messing around with Jerome. When he got a message from Victor that Ed was knocked out by the receptionist's desk and that racket he was hearing was the GCPD trying to burst through the front doors, he sighed heavily. He got up, making his way to grab what was hopefully his Edward. The thugs were still trying to hold the door to keep out the GCPD and Oswald knew he didn't have much time. 

Oswald saw him, a crumpled little mess from the floor. He shook his head, sighing softly as he crouched down, ripping the sleeve off of a passed out thug's shirt, wiping off his boyfriend's face. Who had spit on him? Disgusting. He shook him gently at first, but when Ed didn't wake up after a bit he back handed him hard across the face, unable to help the tiny little smug grin. It felt pretty damn good after having to watch him get all close with Jerome. "Ed, come on, darling. We've got to get you out of here." 

"What...?" Edward slowly began to wake again, and this time, it was really Edward. The other him was where he belonged, buried safely in the back of his mind. He groaned loudly, absolutely disgusted with himself. Even when the dark side of him was in control, he was still able to see and feel much of went on. He likened the experience to being trapped inside a movie theater, forced to watch it all play out before him and not being able to stop a thing. His face stung from where Oswald had hit him and the side of his head was burning wildly from where Victor had pistol whipped him. 

Edward grimaced, staring up at Oswald pitifully. "Oh, Ozzie, I am so, so very sorry." He felt absolutely embarrassed and horrible, immediately hating himself for what had happened. It made him feel as if the last few weeks trying to rebuild Oswald's confidence in him had been for nothing. It also made him feel a strong desire for mouthwash and bleach, to scrub out the taste of Jerome from his mouth. 

Edward struggled to sit up, his head still ringing from all of the trauma. Everything was coming back to him in flashes and pieces, suddenly very aware of the special treasure that he had last left in his pocket. He stuck a hand inside his jacket, feeling a wave of relief that the small collection cards he had been working on had remained unharmed. 

Whether or not he would still have the chance to use them, was entirely up to how Oswald was going to react to his indiscretion. Edward felt nothing but guilt, even though he was not necessarily responsible for the actions of his other personality. He should be able to control him by now, but there were still those moments where he came out were Edward could do absolutely nothing. He gazed longingly up at Oswald, again apologizing, "I am very, very sorry." 

Oswald let out a sigh of relief as _his_ Edward was the one that came to, smiling softly. He cupped his cheek gently as his boyfriend looked up at him with those pitiful eyes, shaking his head a little bit. "Ed, I know it wasn't you. It's all right," he assured him, carefully helping get to his feet. He saw a bit of blood from where Victor had pistol whipped him. He got his handkerchief out of his pocket, pressing it up to the side of Edward's head. 

"Thank you... I would destroy him in a heartbeat if I could," Edward spat bitterly, placing his hand over the handkerchief to hold it in place. He was of course referring to that other side of him, his darkness. Even though they had long ago merged, it was not a blissful union. Edward still knew that the darker part of him had a power that he could rarely resist. It was certainly part of why Oswald loved him, the monster inside him, but Edward feared it would one day make Oswald hate him entirely. 

Oswald was certainly still grumpy from what he had seen, but he understood wholeheartedly. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Ed's gently, his thumb brushing over his cheek. While it had been hard to watch, his Edward would have never even entertained the idea of giving Jerome any sort of attention. He couldn't hold it against him. "Come on, let's get out of here. It certainly wouldn't look good for the chief of staff to be covered in blood in a building full of dead bodies," he teased affectionately, gently brushing Ed's hair back out of his face. 

Edward looked up, seeing the front doors beginning to give way. The thugs were panicking, firing wildly. Some were starting to flee, more chaos threatening to explode at any moment. Ed grabbed Oswald's hand, scooping his boyfriend up into his arms. He knew Oswald couldn't run well, and they needed to make a quick exit. He kissed his cheek quickly, smiling. "Certainly not so good for our beloved mayor, either," he agreed, kissing his forehead sweetly. "Let's go home. I will definitely need a shower. Perhaps several." 

As he started carrying Oswald off to safety, adding as an afterthought, "And some bleach."


	2. All of Our Flaws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harvey and Jim try to recover from their near brush with death, finding themselves ready to take their relationship to the next level.

Jim had dozed off for most of the car ride back to his place, his head rested against Harvey's shoulder. He barely woke up when they stopped by the station, merely just shifting to lay his head against the door until his partner came back. When they got to the apartment, Harvey had refused to let Jim's feet touch the ground until they reached to front door of his apartment. Out of the car, up the steps, even in the elevator; Harvey hadn't let go of his partner for a moment, carrying him the whole way. 

Jim would normally have insisted on walking on his own, but fuck, he had taken one hell of a beating and really couldn't put up too much of a fight. Harvey set him down finally once they reached the door, helping him get his keys out of his pocket. Jim leaned against the door frame while Harvey got it open, leaning against his side for support as they made their way inside. 

Harvey would have picked him up again, but damn, he wasn't getting any younger and his back hated him for what he had done already. He did offer a strong arm around Jim shoulders after he shut the door behind them, guiding him towards the couch. 

Honestly, Jim was rarely ever one to ask for or accept help, but this was different. He was pretty certain he had never had the shit kicked out of him so badly before and he certainly had never been so shaken staring down death. Whether he and Harvey ever put a label on this thing between them or not, it didn't matter. Not having a label didn't stop the emotions from pouring in. He hadn't been scared for himself, not at all really. Nope. He had been terrified that his partner was being forced to watch; about what they might do to that sweet, stubborn bull once they had finished up with him. 

The thought alone made Jim feel nauseous, shaking his head as the thought crept back in. He started to bend to get his shoes and socks off, but the immediate sharp, stabbing pain in his ribs sent him reeling back with a hiss. 

Harvey kneeled down to help him, saying, "I got this. You just sit tight. Dr. Harvey has got you." 

Jim looked down at his partner as he took over and started untying his shoes, smiling at the gesture, his heart thudding a little harder in his chest as he insisted Jim stay put. 

Harvey hurried to the kitchen once he was done, digging around for a glass and a bottle of whiskey. Harvey had been staying almost every night over at Jim's apartment lately and he always made sure that they were well stocked on booze. They didn't go to Harvey's place much, Jim's was so much nicer. And cleaner. And it smelled better. 

Harvey returned, sitting beside his partner and pouring him a full glass. He put it in his hand, his voice gentle as he said, "Sip slowly. Shit's gonna burn like a bitch with that busted lip." 

"Are those doctor's orders?" Jim replied with a little laugh, immediately wincing at the sharp stabbing feeling again. Jim did as he was told, slowly and carefully taking a drink. 

"Damn, right. Doctor _Harvey's_ orders," Harvey laughed. "And hey, this oughta help, too." Harvey pulled out a police evidence bag full of pills from his pocket, grinning sheepishly. "So, when I said I was stopping by the office to file a report and was totally not sneaking into the evidence? I was lying." 

Jim gave him a stern look. " _Harvey_ ," he scolded, but he softened when he saw that goofy smile. He could see that look in his partner's eyes; he wanted to help, he didn't want Jim to be in the pain he was in. 

Harvey dug through the bag and started opening bottles, making a small narcotic cocktail for Jim to take to help with the pain. "Here, choke those down. You can take some more in like four hours; in the meantime, you just work on that whiskey and I'm gonna go get you a hot fucking bath going, okay?" 

Jim sighed a little bit, shaking his head and taking the pills into his hand. Jim Gordon had never taken a pain killer in his life, always one to suck it up and deal with it. But if it would make Harvey feel better, he would do it this once, swallowing them down. 

Harvey leaned close, his arm tight around Jim's shoulders. The terror of almost losing Jim still felt fresh, desperate for his touch. If Victor hadn't shown up when he had... 

Harvey didn't want to think about it. Those few moments when he was certain that he was about to watch his partner die were traumatizing. His heart had never hurt so fucking much before; and he had been completely powerless to stop it. He was trying to keep up a stern face, trying to be strong, but inside he was still trembling. 

When Harvey leaned in close, Jim rested his forehead against his cheek, letting his eyes close for a moment, taking in the scent of him,. He realized just how terrified he had been that he would never be able to be this close to him again, terrified that they had spent their last moments together. He loved being a cop, it was what he was meant to do. But days like this... he wondered in quiet moments if it was worth it, especially now that he had something to lose. Harvey had become his entire world and that fear of almost dying was so fresh, reminding Jim that he didn't tell his partner enough just what he meant to him. 

Harvey and Jim didn't discuss the specifics of their relationship, they had never even referred to each other as anything more than partners. They were what they were; they loved each other, but even that they rarely said. If Jim had died, Harvey knew then more than ever, it wouldn't have just been losing a partner. He would have lost the greatest love of his life. 

Harvey kissed Jim's cheek gently, mindful of how swollen it was. Jim was everything to him. He loved him so fucking much; even if he didn't know how to say it. He lingered before getting up, running his fingers through Jim's hair and smiling softly down at him.

Jim smiled softly at that sweet kiss, leaning into Harvey's touch, watching him as he walked off to the bathroom. He let out a shaky little sigh once he was alone for a moment, resting his head in his hands. His mind was racing; if Victor hadn't shown up, they wouldn't have made it home.

Harvey cranked the water of the tub on, making sure it was nearly scalding hot. As the water ran, he returned to Jim out by the sofa. He grabbed the whiskey bottle, taking a long swig for himself, grunting from the burn. "Fuck of a day, huh, partner?"

Jim looked up when he heard Harvey coming back, laughing softly. "No fucking kiddin'," he mused, wincing a little as he got himself up, walking over and wrapping his arms around his partner's waist.

Harvey frowned a little when Jim came up to him, his strong arms curling around his partner and holding him tight. "Hey, you need to be careful! Stubborn ass. Let me help you if you wanna move around, okay? You don't want to see Doctor Harvey angry," he warned playfully, smiling softly. Fuck, it felt so damn good to hold him; well aware he should never take even such a simple affection for granted in their line of work. Even more so now, after what had happened. 

"I fucking love you. Like, a lot. You know that, right?" Jim said softly, his fingers gently rubbing at the small of his partner's back. 

Harvey looked a little confused when Jim started talking, his eyes searching his partner's as he hung on his every word. He pressed his brow against Jim's, struggling to find the right thing to say in return. "I know," Harvey said softly, swallowing hard. It was making his heart ache, wishing he was better with words. If there was ever a fucking time to say what he felt, it was now. He was overcome with emotion, his gaze a little glassy as he replied finally, "I love you, too. So goddamn much... I can't..." 

_I can't believe I almost lost you today, I can't imagine ever going a single day without you, I can't stand the thought of not waking up next to you..._

Harvey closed his eyes, a few tears slipping down his cheek. He took a deep breath, sniffing back a sob. It was too much to think about it, to think Jim Gordon almost died today, right in front of him. He held him close, being mindful of his ribs. 

Jim's body was aching, the simple act of standing way more painful than he was willing to let on. He leaned against Harvey, grateful for the way his partner knew what a stubborn ass he could be and how he was holding him tight, but somehow gentle enough to not hurt him further. He didn't rush Harvey to finish finding the right words, reaching up and gently brushing away the few tears that had slipped. 

Harvey sniffed again, trying to gather himself together, his voice shaking as he said, "I can't fucking live without you." 

More tears came, Harvey's hand coming up to tenderly touch Jim's cheek, looking deep in those big, blue eyes. "You know you're fucking _everything to me?_ " He grinned in spite of himself, tilting his head away as he fought back the urge to cry, embarrassed for getting so worked up. 

Moments like this, even if they were both terrible at finding the right words to say, were what solidified to Jim that this was where he was meant to be. He was meant to be by Harvey Bullock's side, and not just at work, in everything. He felt tears stinging at his eyes as Harvey's green eyes met his own, leaning into his touch. "I know, Harv," he replied, his own voice a bit gruff from holding back tears of his own, "You're everything to me, too." 

Harvey dragged his thumb over Jim's cheekbone, meeting his gaze again as he said, "I really fucking suck at this, but... I've never been so fucking scared than I was today, thinking..." He couldn't speak, burying his head in Jim's shoulder and squeezing him hard.

"I was fucking scared, too; scared that was the last time I would see you," Jim whispered. A few tears finally did slip when that big ol' bull started to break down, feeling him cry against shoulder. He held him closer, squeezing him a bit tighter. The pain killers were starting to kick in, the pain in his face, chest and ribs was starting to ease up just a bit, his head a little fuzzy. It made it a little easier for Jim to stop being so damn awkward when it came to how he felt. He pulled off Harvey's hat and tossed it onto the table, pressing a few gentle kisses to the top of his head, ignoring the sting from his busted lip. 

Jim pulled back after a moment, cupping Harvey's cheeks in his hands and tilting his chin up to meet his eyes. "Move in with me? I know it seems kinda sudden since we haven't talked about it at all, but..." he paused a moment, leaning in and pressing their foreheads together. "I wanna wake up to you _every_ morning, not just sometimes, ya know?" 

"You're fucking serious?" Harvey couldn't stop the smile that tumbled across his lips, the ache in his heart transforming into a light flutter. He couldn't believe it and the very idea made him so happy. He laughed, moving only briefly to wipe away his tears. Living with Jim, spending every night together, always falling asleep next to the man he loved? Sounded like fucking heaven. 

"Fuck, yes. I would fucking love to," Harvey said earnestly, kissing Jim softly. 

Jim's whole face lit up when Harvey said yes, having been the tiniest bit worried that by saying it out loud, it somehow would have sent his partner running for the hills. He happily returned the sweet little kiss, his thumbs running over Harvey's scruffy cheeks. "Really? You mean it?" he asked softly against his lips, as happy as could be, grinning a little wider as Harvey suddenly lifted him off of his feet. 

"Fuck, yes, I mean it!" Harvey cheered, scooping Jim up into his arms. His back be damned, he wanted to carry him. "I've never been more fucking sure of anything in my whole fucking life." His mind was already racing with preparations; shit, they could even do it this weekend. Harvey didn't truthfully have much to move; most of the crappy furniture he would be more than happy to leave behind and he didn't many personal belongings other than his clothing. 

It wasn't like Harvey didn't already practically live there. He had his own drawer in the dresser, his toothbrush in the bathroom, he kept his favorite shitty beer and top notch whiskey along with his favorite snacks stocked in the kitchen and he had his own key. But this was different; this was making it official. He would be moving out of his own apartment, giving back his keys to the landlord and officially moving all of his things into Jim's place. Fuck, this was a big deal. A really big deal. 

This was the sort of thing that normally terrified Jim, but it didn't with his dear partner. He was actually excited; and so was Harvey. 

Harvey was all smiles now as he carried Jim into the bathroom, gently setting him down on the toilet and turning the water off. He dipped a hand in to make sure it was good and hot, smirking at his partner. "You realize I'm a total fucking slob, right? Like, my sloth and filth are legendary. It is my great legacy that will live on in our unborn children." He blushed a little, realizing he had said 'our'. Moving in together was a huge step. It meant a future, it meant this was real; maybe they would have a family someday. Anything was possible. They were alive, they were together, and he couldn't picture spending the rest of his life with anyone else. Harvey carefully started to undress him, peeling off Jim's shirt, moving onto his pants. 

"Somehow I think I'll live with having a little extra cleaning to do," Jim laughed, lifting his hips to help get out of his pants and underwear. His whole torso was littered with cuts and bruises, his ribs completely black and blue, dried blood all over his face and upper body. 

"Damn, boy." Harvey frowned when he finally saw all of the damage Edward had left behind, silently damning Jim for refusing to go to a doctor. "You look like shit." 

Jim waved a hand dismissively when Harvey mentioned how bad he looked, as stubborn as ever. "I'll be fine in a couple of days," he insisted. 

"Stubborn ass," Harvey said with a smirk, rolling his eyes. He tried to stay in a good mood, grinning, promising sincerely, "Hey, I'll try to be better. About the cleaning stuff. Just, you know, don't look under the couch ever again." 

Jim couldn't help but smile, so glad Harvey was just as excited as he was about him moving in. Well, at least something good came out of getting his ass kicked and almost dying, right? He smirked, shaking his head as he glanced at Harvey. "Right, so never look under the couch again. Or closet in the hallway, just to be safe?" he teased affectionately. 

"Or under the bed," Harvey advised with a small nod. He grinned, tilting his head as he said, "You know, there's something else, something I gotta say... We..." He trailed off, setting Jim's clothes aside. He cleared his throat, hesitating before finding his voice. "You know this means we're way beyond just being partners, right? You ain't gotta call me your man or your boyfriend, whatever. That's... That's never been important to me." He smiled sweetly, leaning down to kiss Jim's forehead. He couldn't resist spoiling the tender moment, adding, "'Daddy Harvey' will be plenty sufficient." 

Jim couldn't help but blush when Harvey finally brought up putting a label on what they were. It was a conversation they had put off over and over, both of them comfortable with the unspoken understanding they'd had all this time. Jim had almost mentioned it so many times, but the lingering fear of somehow scaring his beloved partner always stopping him. He laughed softly, shaking his head as he carefully stood up with his partner's help, climbing into the tub. 

" _Daddy Harvey_ , huh?" Jim snorted, gently gripping his partner's forearm and shoulder to lower himself down into the tub."I think boyfriend will do just fine, Harv." 

"Mmm, I dunno about 'boyfriend'," Harvey teased. "Doesn't quite have the same ring to it. I'm still voting for 'Daddy'." He grinned, leaning in and kissing Jim's forehead. 

Jim let out a little groan as he sunk back into the hot water. A little laugh came out, rolling his eyes. "Maybe it doesn't have the same ring, I guess we'll have to find some acceptable middle ground," he teased right back, his chest fluttering at that gentle little kiss. 

"Eh. We'll work on it! Be right back a second," Harvey said, getting up and heading back to the living room to retrieve the booze. 

During that quick moment to himself, Jim wondered how he ever got so lucky that he and Harvey had gone from absolutely hating one another to this. Jim couldn't imagine his life without his partner now, at the precinct or at home. When he came back with the whiskey, Jim happily accepted his glass as it was handed back to him, wincing a bit as a drop touched his busted lip as he took a sip. 

Harvey took a few chugs from the bottle, kneeling down beside the tub. He grabbed a washcloth, getting it wet and adding a small dollop of soap. He lathered it up, starting to gently wash away all the blood from Jim's face and neck. 

Jim put his glass to the side as Harvey started to run the washcloth over him, eyes slipping shut, sitting back for a moment and enjoying all the sweet, affectionate attention. 

Looking over the wounds made Harvey's stomach turn, a flash of anger coming up. "I just might fucking kill Edward Nygma if I see that skinny fucker again," he said, his tone sour. 

Jim peeked his eyes back open when he heard how angry Harvey was, reaching up and resting his hand against his partner's. "Killing Nygma isn't gonna solve anything. Besides, Jerome was definitely the ringleader of that little shit show." Jim replied softly, surprisingly indifferent about what happened to either of those lunatics at the moment. All he wanted to focus on the rest of that night was just he and Harvey. 

"It would definitely solve something," Harvey grumbled bitterly. "It would finally solve the great 'what the fuck is wrong with Ed' riddle. Hmm, don't matter now, he's dead!" He wrung out the washcloth, draping it over the edge of the tub and swigging back more whiskey. "We've got him for attempted murder of a fucking cop, I don't care if he's banging the mayor, we could..." He could tell from the look on Jim's face that he didn't want this conversation right now. "Fine. But we are dealing with Ed. I may not be able to get to Jerome, but I know exactly where ol' Eddie is." 

Jim let out a soft little sigh, knowing how angry Harvey was, letting him vent despite wanting to just forget about it for now. He sighed softly, throwing back another gulp from his glass, his head starting to swim, body heavy as the pain killers started to kick in. Oh, that was nice. "Okay, okay, we'll deal with Ed, I promise. Just... not now, okay?" he replied, hoping to reassure him that he wouldn't let it go if that was what he really wanted. 

"Okay," Harvey mumbled, still not satisfied. He wouldn't be until both Edward and Jerome were on a bus on their way to Arkham. Jim was everything to him and he'd never had a relationship like this before; where all he wanted was to take care of someone and keep them safe. Jim definitely didn't make that easy all the time, that was for fucking sure. Where there was danger, there was Jim. How could Harvey stand a chance keeping his beloved partner safe with those lunatics running loose? 

Harvey dipped the washcloth back into the tub, refreshing it with more hot water, and continuing to bathe Jim. His hands were always rough, but he tried to be gentle. He moved as if Jim was made of glass; not just being mindful of his partner's injuries, but because he was the most precious thing in all the fucking cosmos to him. Even after all the blood was long gone, he continued to pat here and there. He was so happy to touch him, grateful to have him here after all they had been through. 

"Don't worry, though." Harvey winked, trying to add some levity to the conversation, teasing, "You're still smokin' hot, even all beat up." 

Jim gently pulled his hand away, bringing a handful of water up to rinse his face off, grabbing another slow sip of his whiskey, flashing a little grin at his partner's wink. "Well, thank God for that, I don't know if I could get by on just this incredibly charming personality alone," he laughed, glancing up to Harvey with adoring eyes, so glad to have him there. 

Harvey sighed, snorting as he teased, "What fucking personality? You mean that jackass stubborn shit that always drags me into crap? 'Oh, sure, let's go plunge into certain death and fuck all danger.' Okay, Jim! Wait for me!" He chuckled softly, his hands lovingly cupping Jim's cheeks. He shifted closer so he could kiss him, trying not to let his emotions take over and keep it sweet. It was so hard; he pressed their brows up against each other, his eyes closing. 

Jim let out a loud laugh, shaking his head and flashing a sheepish little grin, a little blush on his cheeks. "Yeah, that personality," he mused, learning into Harvey's touch as he cupped his cheeks, kissing him back sweetly, his own hands coming up to rest against his partner's, thumbs brushing over the back of his hands affectionately. He let his eyes slip shut as their foreheads rested together. 

Jim often wondered if Harvey had ever been quite so sweet and tender with anyone else or if it was just with him. Jim had certainly loved other people before, even had almost gotten married. But it had never been even remotely close to what he had with Harvey. Harvey made him feel things Jim had been pretty certain that he just never would. He could talk sense into Jim when no one else could, he gave Jim a reason to wake up each morning and a reason to want to make it home every night. Harvey made him feel like he had a reason to exist other than just being a detective, other than making sure there was justice in Gotham. He had another purpose in life and it was to make sure Harvey Bullock was loved and knew just how god damn important he was. 

Harvey's fingertips lightly brushed through Jim's hair at the back of his neck, his voice passionate as he whispered, "Fuck, my dumb ass would follow you anywhere, _you know that_." 

Jim sighed, feeling his heart flutter in his chest at those tender words. "And I would follow you anywhere, too. I love you, so much." 

"I love you, too," Harvey replied softly, smiling. Damn, this was probably a new record for how many times they'd said that in one day. After what they had faced, it felt good to hear it so much. He put his worried thoughts away, content for now to enjoy the moment. "Hey. You know? All you gotta ever worry about is following me to a buffet," Harvey chuckled. 

"Then I will happily follow you to any buffet." Jim's eyes peeled open, nuzzling against Harvey's cheek. "Get in here with me?" 

Harvey kissed Jim's cheek, smiling at the invitation. "Fuck, yes." 

Harvey stood up, quickly stripping down. He had come to be quite comfortable with Jim, slowly accepting his body and feeling good in his skin. It was part of why he loved Jim so dearly, he was the only person who had ever made him feel so beautiful. He hummed playfully as he shook off his pants and drawers, the last of his clothes gone and climbing in the tub behind Jim. 

Jim smiled contentedly as Harvey undressed, his eyes roaming over his partner. He was so happy that his lover seemed to be becoming more and more comfortable, not missing never messing around with the lights on or Harvey getting visibly self conscious when Jim's hands would roam. It was so nice just seeing his beautiful partner confident in his own skin. 

Harvey sighed, leaning back and wrapping an arm around Jim's waist. He gently pulled him back, kissing the top of his head. The hot water and his boyfriend's body pressed against his felt great; this was home. Right here, with Jim Gordon. He reached with his other hand for the whiskey, chugging a few gulps back. He refilled Jim's glass again, certain he needed it, before setting to bottle back on the toilet. He shifted his hips a little, grinning sheepishly, "Just ignore the giant hard on digging in your back. Kinda can't help it." 

Jim happily leaned back against Harvey, taking a few more gulls from his glass, letting out a little hiss as another drop of whiskey hit his busted lip. He closed his eyes for a moment, laying his head back against Harvey's shoulder, laughing softly as his partner mentioned his cock pressing against his back. "And why would I ignore that?" he asked with a playful grin, tilting his head and trailing a few slow, heated little kisses along his partner's shoulder and neck. 

Jim was certainly feeling much better at the moment, the booze and pain killers working their magic. Jim was also feeling nice and sentimental, all of Harvey's sweet words and gentle, loving touches being just what Jim needed. 

"Well, you did just get the shit pounded out of you," Harvey laughed. "Didn't figure you'd be in the mood for me pounding on you, too." He grinned, grunting softly at the kisses, feeling his cock twitch. "Then again, you kinda seem like you're feeling pretty good. Doctor Harvey has been fuckin' successful, huh?" 

Jim grinned softly against Harvey's skin, gently nipping at his jaw. "Oh, Doctor Harvey was _very_ successful," he agreed with a soft laugh, trailing his lips back over his partner's neck, ignoring the little sting in his lip as he teasingly sucked a little mark at the base of his neck. 

Harvey's purred softly, his hands gently petted Jim's firm stomach, staying clear of the bruising. He slid them down over his partner's hips and as far down on his thighs as he could reach. He kissed Jim's forehead, nuzzling his beard against his cheek, sighing contently. Yup, there it was, fully hard fucking cock rubbing against the small of Jim's back. "Doctor Harvey also offers many other unconventional healing treatments," he went on, "I think you'd be interested; they all have to be taken, ahem, internally." 

Jim let out a low groan as he felt Harvey's hands roaming, letting out a happy little hum. He was undoubtedly still feeling the sting from his extensive injuries, but he was able to push it to the back of his mind, more focused on his partner. He let out a soft little chuckle, smiling at the feeling of his partner's beard scratching against his cheek. 

"Oh yeah? I might be interested. Why don't you tell me about them, _Doctor_?" Jim replied with a playful smirk, his hands reaching down to slide over the sides Harvey's thighs, back over his hips. He squeezed at them gently, lifting himself up enough that his ass was pressed against his cock, hips slowly starting to grind. 

Harvey grumbled low when Jim began to grind, his head dropping back and nearly smacking right into the edge of the bathtub. Fuck, he loved when Jim touched him like that. "Mmph. Doctor Harvey advises a very large dose of cock, taken at least twice daily, maybe three," he taunted, shifting his pelvis up against Jim's. "Depending on how tired the good doctor is and how much he's had to drink." 

Harvey chuckled at himself, always the joker; but the passion rising from his loins and roaming hands made his laughter fade. If things had gone differently... He didn't want to think about it. His hands moved again, rubbing Jim's inner thigh and up towards his groin. He was gentle, deliberate; he wasn't sure if Jim was really up for this, but fuck, how he hoped he was. 

He didn't want to take a moment of time he had with Jim for granted, ever again. He wanted to show him how much he loved him where he felt his words had failed. Harvey wasn't very skilled with feelings or being particularly sensitive, but he damn sure knew how to use his body. 

Jim savored every second, quickly remembering how close they had come to losing each other. He tilted his head to catch Harvey's lips against his own, groaning softly as he kissed him hungrily, his tongue sliding past his lips to brush against the other's, mewling softly at the taste. There was no way he could ever be without his beloved partner. After everything they had been through over the years, Jim knew that this was where he was meant to be. He needed Harvey more than anything and even if he couldn't always say it, he would do everything he could to show him how much he meant to him. 

Harvey lost himself in Jim's lips and tongue, overcome suddenly with passion. His heart felt like it was on fire; he loved him so much. He kissed him feverishly, his tongue lovingly lapping against his. 

Jim was just as caught up in their kiss, that playful teasing gone right out the window as their kiss grew more passionate. It was so rare that the playful banter stopped between them, not uncommon for Harvey to crack terrible puns and bad jokes the entire time they were having sex. But sweet, slow, intimate moments like this? They were few and fleeting, and after the day they had, had, all Jim wanted to do was enjoy how damn good Harvey's lips felt against his own, how amazing his cock would feel inside of him. 

Harvey's hands moved to Jim's sides, lifting him up onto his cock, carefully easing him down on it. He couldn't wait any longer; he wanted him so desperately. He whimpered against Jim's lips as he struggled to slide inside of him. His hands went underneath his partner's thighs, holding him tight and slowly rocking him onto his dick. 

Jim was whining softly as Harvey struggled to slide in, the cramped space of the tub making things a bit more difficult. But when his partner gripped at his thighs, Jim's jaw went slack against their kiss, letting out a loud groan as he sunk into him, a hand reaching up behind him and wrapping around Harvey's neck, panting in between kisses. 

Harvey held Jim tight, taking on his full weight and thrusting his own hips upwards as he slipped in and out of him. He held their kiss as best as he could, moaning softly. He kept the pace slow, sweet; the water was softly splashing around them, murmuring, "Just what the fucking doctor ordered."

"Fuck yeah, it is," Jim moaned, fingers threading through Harvey's long red hair, tugging desperately. His other hand slid down over his stomach, dipping lower to wrap his fingers around his cock, stroking himself in time with Harvey's thrusts. Everything felt so much more intense, knowing that they almost didn't make it home to enjoy this. 

Harvey moaned when Jim pulled at his hair, lifting him up so his cock was almost slipping out before plunging back inside of him. His fingers clung eagerly to his flesh, watching Jim jacking himself off intently. Harvey couldn't help it, thrusting into him harder, making sure Jim had enough time to adjust his hand to match the increasing pace.

He buried his face into Jim's hair, gritting his teeth as he slammed his partner's hips against his own. He could see it happening all over again; hear Jerome's laughter and see Edward's twisted smirk. Fuck, how Harvey had tried to save him. He had fought so hard, never giving up. That same passion was now fueling his thrusts, not able to resist the tears slipping from his eyes. He grunted, his sense of control lost to how good it felt to be inside Jim. "I fucking love you," he hissed into his ear, "Always, fucking forever." 

He whined softly, knowing his end was near. It was too much to handle; his body, his mind, his soul. Everything had been pushed to its limit today and he knew he couldn't go much longer without release. 

Jim gasped as Harvey began rocking him down harder and faster, his whole body aching with the increased pleasure. He was quick to adjust the pace of his hand to meet Harvey’s harder thrusts, crying out loudly as he hit that sweet spot over and over. It was so much more intense than usual, both of them so appreciative of the fact that they still had one another, coming so close to losing their lives today, especially Jim. He leaned his head back against Harvey as he buried his face in his hair, nuzzling sweetly. 

Fuck, Jim was so terrible with this sort of surge of emotion, never knowing exactly what to say or how to really handle it. A few tears rolled down his own cheek as well, completely and utterly overwhelmed with how truly in love he was with his partner. “Fuck, I love you too,” Jim gasped out, tilting his head so their foreheads rested together, “More than anything.” 

It wasn’t long before Jim was reaching the edge, feeling that fire burning away in the pit of his stomach. He was so overtaken with emotion that he couldn’t even give any sort of warning. He threw his head back against Harvey’s shoulder, his hips jerking as he reached his climax, coming hard under the warm water, his body wrapping tighter around Harvey’s cock. It was so intense his vision went white, whimpering and moaning as he shuddered through every last wave of intense passion and pleasure. 

"There you go, baby," Harvey soothed as he felt Jim's body trembling, "Just like that, mmmm, so fucking good." He held Jim close, groaning softly as he came along with his lover. He did his best to follow every shiver, letting their bodies rock together amidst all the water splashing. He didn't think he had ever climaxed like this; it was so intense, so deep, Harvey feeling another wave of tears stinging his eyes. He squeezed Jim tightly, pressing breathless kisses into his hair and gasping. Fuck, he realized he was about to fucking cry. 

Harvey did his best to hold it all back, which he soon found was next to impossible. It was just too much. He blinked, a few of those pesky tears slipping over his cheek and he sighed haggardly. What a fucking day. Harvey was pretty sure he had never felt so exhausted. He was mindful of Jim's injuries, but he wanted to touch him all over. He wanted to commit every bit of him to memory, every scar, every mole, every inch. It was still all too real how close he had come to losing his partner today.

Jim savored every touch, sighing softly. He frowned when he saw Harvey's tears, turning around as much as the small space would allow to gently wipe them away. He wished he knew what to say, but nothing seemed right even when he tried it out inside his head. He ran his fingers through Harvey's beard, pressing a light kiss against his lips. He was so grateful for the drugs now, all of the pain was fuzzy and seemed so far away. He could focus on Harvey and just him, smiling lovingly and letting himself drink in those sweet, green eyes. 

The moment was sweet, tender, but Harvey was never very good at remaining vulnerable for very long. He smirked, fingers finding Jim's and squeezing his hand softly. "So. Huh. You realize if I move in, I'm gonna be all over this ass all the time, right?" 

Jim laughed, loud and happily. He smirked up at his partner, nodding, "It's one of the many benefits to living together, I'm pretty sure." 

"Damn right," Harvey said, glad to hear Jim laugh like that. It was rare and he loved the sound. He nuzzled his partner's neck sweetly, saying sternly, "And you know, you ain't going back to work until I fucking say so, got it?" 

Jim rolled his eyes, knowing he wasn't in a position to argue right then. "Fine," he agreed, knowing immediately this would lead to a future argument. He would listen to Harvey for now, but he knew he wouldn't be able to stay put for long. Jerome had left quite a mess at city hall and it would take a while to clean it all up. 

Jim was never good at sitting idly by, not when there was so much to do. 

Harvey seemed to sense what Jim was thinking, adding, "I will totally handcuff you to the bed if I think you can't be trusted not to escape." He grinned, reaching over the side of the tub to help himself to another sip of whisky. 

"Uh huh," Jim drawled, giving his eyes another good roll. 

Harvey chuckled, gently nudging Jim forward as he began to climb out of the tub. "Then again, if I have you cuffed, I probably won't make it into work either." He grunted, making a lewd smacking sound with his lips. "Damn, now there's a pretty picture. Jim Gordon, handcuffed and naked, just for me." He grabbed a towel, drying himself off as he teased, "It's never too early to start thinking about what I might want for my birthday, just sayin'." 

"Keep on dreamin'," Jim snorted with another laugh, splashing water over at Harvey. He pulled the plug and started to stand up, immediately grateful for Harvey's big arms coming around his waist to help him step out onto the mat. He grabbed a towel for himself, gingerly patting himself down. He let Harvey lead him back into the bedroom, not bothering with any clothes and collapsing right into bed. 

Jim shoved his face into the pillows, mumbling, "Fuck, tomorrow is gonna be hell." Even with the medicine, he could feel the pain throbbing away in the distance. He didn't want to think about what it would feel like later once all the bruising had a good chance to settle in. 

Harvey climbed up into bed beside his partner, his hand gently rubbing his back as he sighed, "I know, but hey. I'm not going anywhere." He grinned, teasing, "Doctor Harvey takes his job very seriously and you're his most important patient." 

Jim groaned lightly, rolling over and curling an arm around Harvey's side. He smirked, stealing a quick kiss as he snorted, "You're ridiculous, you know that?" 

"Yup," Harvey snickered, his eyes dancing with excitement. "And you fucking love it." 

Jim smiled sweetly, agreeing softly, "Yeah, I do." He leaned in, pressing his lips back against his partner's. He took his time, enjoying the rough scratch of Harvey's beard, the faint taste of whisky. He still felt a tidal wave of emotions threatening to crash over him, but all that mattered right then was how good it felt to kiss the man he loved. They had both made it home today, that's what fucking mattered. 

He wasn't sure when their kiss became so passionate again, groaning loudly against Harvey's mouth as his partner's hands began to roam. Time seemed to slow down, lost in his tender kisses and loving touches. They may have been kissing for hours before Harvey rolled back on top of him, Jim wasn't certain. He could have kept kissing him all night, that he knew in his heart. 

He was so caught up in Harvey's lips he barely noticed him digging around in the bedside table, his partner's voice whispering in his ear, "You okay? You wanna go again?" 

Jim felt Harvey's cock eagerly awaiting his answer, slick and pressing right up against his entrance. "Yes," he pleaded, crashing their lips back together, his legs seizing around Harvey's waist and drawing him in. "Fuck, _yes_." 

It went on for hours. From that first thrust that made Jim's toes curl to the last that had him screaming Harvey's name, they made love all night. Harvey had never been so tender, every movement deep and with such passion, their lips barely apart for a moment except to catch their breath when the air between them became too scarce. 

There were moments where it was all too much, too intense, and Jim realized he was practically sobbing against his partner's shoulder. They could have died today, they both could have been carried out in bags, never to hold each other again, never to kiss again. Jim let himself weep, his partner cradling him close. Harvey would slow down, whispering sweet words into his partner's ear until Jim would tell him to keep going. Harvey shed tears of his own, all the way until the end when they climaxed together. Even their orgasms were slow and tender, rolling over them like waves, their bodies dancing together as each tremor moved through them. 

The sun had gone down long ago, both men laying next to one another in the darkness, listening to each other softly gasp as their heart beats began to settle back down. Harvey fumbled around until he found Jim's hand, lacing their fingers together and kissing his knuckles. 

"I love you," Jim said quietly, the sound of a smile on his lips. 

Harvey grinned, sighing long and hard as he took a deep breath, replying, "I love you, too."


	3. Playtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward decides to visit Jerome and Victor, to finish what they started at City Hall; but nothing is what it seems.

Even though it was another miserable and rainy evening in Gotham, Victor Zsasz could not be happier. He was admiring his new toy, a vintage Rock-Ola Bubbler jukebox. It was gift to himself for a very successful week at work. He had lovingly put all his favorite records in, the 

last one finally sliding into place. He closed it all back up and excitedly hit the shuffle button. He sighed in satisfaction watching the record click over and the needle drop, grinning wide when music began to fill the room, sauntering back towards the couch. He was only wearing a loose pair of pajama pants, content and ready to settle down for the night. He plopped on the couch beside his husband, Jerome, smirking. 

Victor hummed along softly, absolutely in heaven. Naturally most of the music he had put in was disco and pop from the seventies; his favorites. "Love to Love You Baby" by Donna Summer had loaded first, Victor laughing and singing lightly to Jerome, "Loooove to love you, baby." He winked, reaching for his drink on the coffee table and chugging it back. He hissed at the burn; he'd already had several beverages that evening and honestly had lost count. 

Jerome had been as well behaved as could possibly be since having his fun at City Hall. He had been a good little psychopath and stayed safely at home if he wasn't going out somewhere with Victor. He was thrilled to have his husband home for the evening, definitely several drinks in as well. He chuckled softly as Victor sang to him, letting his eyes close. 

Victor nuzzled against Jerome's neck, ever amorous being this close. He was already thinking about moving this little party to the bedroom when he heard a knock at his door. He immediately tensed; _no one_ ever knocked at his door. No one ever fucking came to his door. He quickly grabbed a pistol from underneath the sofa, getting to his feet and cautiously approaching the door. 

Jerome couldn't help but whip around when Victor pulled out good ol' couch gun, grinning excitedly. There were very few things he enjoyed watching more than his husband with a gun in his hand. 

Victor peered through the peep hole, eyes narrowing at the person on the other side. He groaned loudly. It was fucking Edward Nygma; definitely not his favorite person at the moment since what had transpired at City Hall. Victor could see he was soaking wet, hair a mess. No doubt in some sort of trouble. Victor opened the door, gun pointed right at Edward's face, saying cheerfully, "Hey, there! Care to kindly fuck off from my doorstep, Eddie?" 

Edward held his hands up, smiling wide. His eyes were dark, dangerous, saying kindly, "Aw, Victor. I'm just here to use your phone and then I'll be right out of your hair... My car broke down and you fellows lived so close, I figured... why not?" 

Jerome couldn't help but grin wider as he saw who it was. Not the boring Chief of Staff, no, no. It was his newest little friend, fun Ed. 

"Hmm," Victor said, rolling his eyes as if in deep thought, glancing back at his husband, "Maybe because I want to shoot you in the face? Like a lot." His eyes started to wander over Edward, watching water drop from his chin and hair. His shirt was wet and sticking to the lean curves of his chest and stomach. Edward's lips were pouting, quivering ever so slightly from the cold. Victor tried not to stare, realizing his face was hot. He lowered his gun, gritting his teeth. 

Victor didn't like this one fucking bit, but stood aside to allow Edward in. He knew if he didn't help, he would be hearing it from Oswald soon enough. The good ol' mayor was still pretty sore with him for letting Jerome wrecking his offices. "Come in, make your call, and then you're leaving." 

Jerome felt that excitement bubbling in the pit of his stomach, though he was doing best to just be a good little monster and ignore it. But my, oh, my, my his new little friend downright pretty all soaked from the rain. Jerome hopped up from his chair, making his way over to Victor's side as Edward came in, draping his arms over his husband's shoulders and biting at his neck affectionately. 

"You do know that's fun Eddie, right?" Jerome purred into his ear, eyes peering over at Edward for a moment, getting the sense that he wasn't gracing their doorstep for their phone. Who didn't have their cell phone on them these days? Especially someone as prepared for anything and everything as Ed always was. 

Victor shivered at the bite, his husband's hot breath sending a wave of goose bumps over his flesh. "Fun Eddie, huh?" He tried to fight off his arousal, but he couldn't deny how attractive Edward was. Those cheekbones, those lips, his hair disheveled and wet from the rain. He thought back to watching him kiss his husband and the memory still made his blood run hot. The way he had grabbed at Jerome, his mouth... It had been absolutely thrilling. He ignored it, as best as he could, snapping at Edward, "Come the fuck inside, but stay off the carpet. Don't want you fucking dripping all over it." 

Edward obeyed, standing on the tile of the foyer, watching Victor intently as he shut the door behind him. He saw how the assassin was looking at him, smiling sweetly over at Jerome. He could tell they had both been drinking, especially Victor judging by way he was swaying ever so slightly. He hadn't come here for a phone call, and the car was definitely not broken down. "Could I get a towel, please?" 

"Fine," Victor grumbled, "I'll get you a fucking towel, just... stay right there." He picked up his glass he headed into the bathroom, stopping by the bar on the way to refill his drink. He slammed it back, made another. Drank that, too. Fuck, he couldn't stop thinking about the way Edward and Jerome had looked, pouring another full glass, imagining what it would be like to... 

No. He shook his head wildly, as if shaking it would cast out the wild ideas zooming through his head. He stared down in bewilderment, realizing he was getting hard. Goddammit. He licked his lips, the alcohol making his thoughts a little fuzzy. He sipped at his glass, thoughtful. 

Jerome had stayed put, bending at the waist so his eyes could follow his husband until he was out of sight. Be good, Jerome. Behave. His attention turned back to Edward, standing in a puddle at the doorway, sucking at his lower lip at the sight of him, standing back up straight and offering a little grin. "Hey there, Eddie." 

Edward was smiling naughtily, waving at Jerome. "Hi, there." He was making quite the puddle on the floor, trying to shrug off his jacket. It was so wet and heavy, it was catching on his elbows and he looked over at Jerome, as pitiful as can be. "A little help?" 

Jerome's eyes never tore away from Edward as he struggled with his coat, letting out a little giggle as he asked for help. He took a few steps closer, looking him up and down for a moment before letting his hands drag down over his arms, fingertips hooking under the fabric as he helped tug his jacket off. He peered up at him, a playful look in his eyes. "You didn't come here for a phone, did you, Eddie?" he questioned, getting right in his personal space. 

Jerome loved his husband in a way he could never love anyone else. Victor came first. But Eddie... he was so much fun. He was trying to be good, really, he was. But that devious look in Edward's eyes sent an excited little shiver down his spine, daring Jerome to take a step closer. "So, why don't you tell me why you're really here, hmm?" he said sweetly, face barely inches from Edward's. 

Edward enjoyed how close Jerome was, teasing, "Oh? Isn't it obvious?" His eyes slowly worked their way over him, playful fingertips walking up his chest, pouting. "I finally get a night out to have some fun and Oswald just doesn't seem to like me very much." 

Jerome gave a playful little pout, watching Edward's fingers intently. "Now how could Oswald not like you?" he teased. 

"Broke my heart, really it did," Edward sighed dramatically. "But, then I remembered my new friend, who I know likes me... and how we never got to finish playing." He dared to tilt his head down, his mouth hovering tauntingly over Jerome's, whispering, "And I really, really would like to play..." 

Jerome smiled, feeling that delightful little rush as he felt the other's breath against his lips, letting out a pleased little hum. "Oh, I would very much like to play..." 

Victor had finally managed to mentally talk his erection down so it wasn't jabbing right out the front of his pajamas, grabbing a towel and headed back out into the living room. He saw Jerome and Edward, his temper instantly snapping. "Not fucking again!" he snapped, stomping towards them. He threw the towel and grabbed Edward by his shoulders, slamming him up against the door, pressing close. He hated himself for being so turned on, staring deep into Edward's dark eyes. "You really don't know when to fucking quit, do you? What the fuck are you thinking?" 

Edward gasped, his head bonking into the door from how rough Victor was being. He smiled, full of mischief, noticing that Victor seemed to have something in his pocket. He pushed his hips up against the assassin's, his eyes playful as he felt that deliciously hard cock, teasing, "I'm thinking we should have some fun... and it seems like you don't disagree." 

Jerome was watching them closely. He knew that look in his husband's eyes, smirking as he watched their bodies press closer. He was unable to hold back a loud giggle as the song changed over the speakers, the humor of that never lost on him. Ed was right, his darling little monster was very much entertaining the thought of the three of them tangled up together. 

"Fuck you," Victor said, enraged that Edward was making him feel like this. He could feel Jerome close behind him, instantly awkward. "Lady Marmalade" suddenly began to play, mumbling a few curses loudly to himself. Fucking of course that song would start playing right now. He couldn't stop staring at Edward's mouth. 

"Fuck me?" Edward smiled, his hands slowly sliding over Victor's arms. He lightly traced over the little tallies, feeling his grip start to relax. He leaned in close, softly kissing Victor's cheek, over his jaw, whispering huskily, "If you'd really like to... " 

Jerome smirked as he saw Victor's grip on Edward easing up, his head tilting to the side as Edward kissed at his neck. Jerome's hands roamed down over his husband's sides and hips, pressing up against him as an arm wrapped around his waist from behind. His fingers trailed over his favorite little tally mark just below his navel. 

"C'mon, cupcake. It'll be fun," Jerome purred into Victor's ear, biting at that sensitive spot just below it. "I mean, if you two just wanna tango, I am more than happy to just sit back and watch." He pouted against his skin playfully, his hips pressing forward so his husband could feel how excited the thought alone had him. 

Victor bit back a moan when Jerome touched him there, that sweet little spot that was Jerome's and his alone. It was one of Victor's most sensitive buttons, if for nothing else because of what it meant to him. Edward's mouth felt so hot against his skin and feeling Jerome's cock digging into him was absolutely maddening. It was overwhelming having both men's bodies pressing close. His head absolutely swimming. He whined softly, unable to resist it any longer. Jerome was right; it would be fun. 

Victor grabbed Edward roughly, biting into his neck so hard he yelped. He held his teeth down until he tasted blood, growling. He kissed him, hard, unable to hold back a growl of pleasure at the sweet, forbidden taste of his lips. Fuck, Oswald was gonna kill him for this. He kept Ed pinned close against the door, grinding forcefully into him. 

Edward wrapped his arms around Victor's neck, gasping in surprise. He had suspected Victor was a nasty little thing, but he hadn't been quite prepared for how savage he was. His neck was throbbing where Victor had bitten him, the pain beautifully melding alongside the pleasure of his lips. He was a surprisingly passionate kisser, Edward noted, thrilled that his little plan was coming to fruition. 

Jerome felt his cock twitch as Victor gave in, watching them kiss. The sight alone made that devious little grin spread wide across his face, taking a step back to just enjoy the sight. Normally, Jerome was not the sharing type, but this was just too much fun to pass up. "Don't you boys look pretty all over each other." 

Victor pulled back, panting, his chest heaving from all of the excitement. He turned to grab a fistful of Jerome's hair, planting a bloody kiss against his mouth. Fuck, this was amazing and they still had all night to play. 

Jerome let out a pleased little groan, kissing him back hungrily, excited at the unfamiliar taste of Ed's blood on his lips. He flashed Edward a devious little grin, leaning in and giving the other side of his neck another harsh little bite, not stopping until he broke skin as well. 

Victor smiled wildly, grabbing his husband's hand and Edward's, pulling them towards the bedroom as the music continued to blare. Maybe it was Victor's imagination, but it seemed to be getting louder. He slipped off his pajama pants, kicking them off to the side as soon as he stepped through the doorway. 

When Edward approached, Victor grabbed him by his hair, pushing him down to his knees. He smiled sweetly, holding out his rigid cock right in front of his face, laughing, "You want to have some fun... right?" 

Edward grunted, that tight pull making him shudder as he was forced down in front of the assassin. He smiled eagerly, grinning as he replied, "Oh, most definitely." He grabbed onto Victor's hips, desperately taking him into his mouth and sucking hard. He could feel Victor's fingers digging into scalp, urging him to take it all in at once and threatening to gag him. Shit! He took a deep breath through his nose and kept sucking, struggling to keep every inch down. 

Jerome looked over Victor's naked body appreciatively. Fuck, he had one good looking husband. He licked over his lips he watched his new little friend struggle a bit to handle all of his darling little monster's cock. Jerome's fingers reached out, wrapping tightly around Ed's hair and pulling his head forward to meet each little roll of Victor's hips, his other hand palming over his cock through his pants. 

Edward struggled to keep breathing, overwhelmed when Jerome started yanking his hair. He tried to keep his throat relaxed, letting Victor slam into his mouth as hard as he wanted. He even let his teeth drag down, pleased when he heard Victor moan. 

Victor smiled nastily down at Edward, remarking, "You do look really nice sucking my dick, mmph. Pretty little thing... Fuck, feels good." Even as much as he was enjoying this, he was desperate for Jerome's touch. He reached for him, all the while slamming Edward's mouth onto his cock, pulling his husband close and kissing him madly. "But not as pretty as you." 

Jerome met Victor's kiss eagerly, all tongue and teeth, groaning against his lips. "Duh," he murmured back against his lips playfully, pulling his hand away from his own cock for a moment, letting it roam over his husband's stomach and chest. He gave his nipple a harsh little pinch. "You look so sexy fucking his pretty little mouth, cupcake," he purred, breaking the kiss to trail his lips down over his neck, sucking and biting harshly, tongue lapping over any blood he drew, his body pressing close against his side. 

Jerome couldn't help but love the stark contrast between the attention Victor gave him and the attention he gave Edward. Their sex was always so rough, raw and violent, but even at its most harsh, there was no way either of them could hide the overwhelming passion between them. There was something so fucking hot about seeing his husband treating Edward like an object. 

Victor purred softly, tipping his head back and leaning into his husband's sweet bites. "Mmm, thank you, baby doll. Mmph, feels fucking awesome... You should try him." Victor grunted, pushing Ed away, commanding, "Come on, Eddie. Strip. I think I would like to fuck you after all." 

Edward gasped for breath, smiling wickedly. Fuck, Victor tasted phenomenal; but what he really wanted was Jerome. In the meantime, he would let Victor have his turn. He stood up, eagerly taking off his clothes as he was asked. Victor was impatiently pushing him towards the bed, chuckling sinisterly as he positioned him up on his hands and knees. 

Victor embraced Jerome, kissing him harshly, growling, "I fucking love you..." 

Jerome eagerly returned the harsh little kiss. "Mmmph, love you too, gorgeous." 

"Now why don't you go over there and give Ed's mouth something to do?" 

Jerome giggled, finally losing his own clothes, tossing them into a pile on the floor as he made his way over to the bed. 

Victor winked at his husband, standing behind Edward and admiring the sight. He was beautiful, lean and elegant, nothing like his little beastie Jerome. He spread Edward's cheeks apart, tauntingly rubbing the head of his cock against his hole. "Lovely," he complimented, 

Jerome let his hand run over Edward's back as he climbed into their bed, sucking at his teeth while he settled in front of Ed. "Fuck, you really are a pretty little thing, Eddie. Especially while you're waiting for Victor's cock like such a good boy," he praised, 

"Better hang on tight," Victor warned. "'Cause this is gonna be a bumpy ride." 

Edward licked his lips in anticipation, saying, "Oh! I'm ready." 

Victor and Jerome exchanged a laugh; poor Ed most certainly was not ready for this. Victor grinned and brutally slammed into Ed, the only lubrication was from Edward's spit left behind. 

Edward shouted, his body going tight, crying out again as Victor thrusted into him. Fuck! It hurt, whimpering at first, but his cries turned into moans as he began to relax. "Fuck!" he moaned, barely having a second to adjust as Victor fucked him ruthlessly. 

Edward was struggling to hold on. Victor was like no other lover he had ever known, in darkness or otherwise. He heard Victor hissing in his ear, "Spread your legs," and he obeyed. He moved his knees apart, keeping his ass up as Victor brutalized him. Edward was actually quite amazed; the assassin was like a machine. He never slowed, never stopped, and Edward couldn't contain his screams of pleasure. No one had ever fucked him like this and he was definitely beginning to understand why Jerome loved him so. 

Jerome watched through heavy lidded, lustful eyes as he watched Victor viciously slam into Edward, stroking his own cock while he gave him a moment to adjust to his husband's brutal pace, the sight alone leaving his cock dripping. He could barely wait, reaching out and gripping Edward's jaw roughly in his hand. "Let's see what that pretty little mouth of yours can do, Eddie, baby," he purred, gripping his hair and yanking him down onto his cock. 

Jerome let out a loud gasp, not stopping until he felt his cock hit the back of Edward's throat, eyes locking with Victor's. Fuck, this was already so much more fun than he had been expecting. 

Edward desperately gobbled up Jerome's cock, eyes watering, sucking him as hard as he could. This had been what he really wanted. He couldn't allow his body to take any other rhythm except the one Victor was fucking him in. He bobbed his head in time, having to pull back gasping at Victor's ruthlessness, before eagerly sucking down on Jerome's length once more. His tongue ran in lazy spirals all along his shaft, not afraid to pull his dick all the way in, as deep as he could. Between Victor's cock tearing him apart from behind and Jerome fucking his mouth, Edward was in absolute heaven. 

Jerome was almost surprised at how eagerly Ed was swallowing down his cock, noting so much more enthusiasm than when he had gone down on his darling little monster. He knew it was probably a little unfair, but Jerome loved being the center of attention like he always did, it was just his nature. To say he was an attention whore was the understatement of the century. 

Victor whimpered softly, licking his lips as he watched Jerome. Yes, his cock was in Edward, but all he could was stare at was his husband. "Close," Victor warned. Watching Edward slobbering so eagerly on his husband's cock was mind boggling. He knew he should be jealous, but all he wanted was to keep watching his husband fucking Edward's mouth. 

Jerome was already getting close himself from just the heat of it all, watching Edward being used like a pretty little fuck toy for him and his husband and being such a good boy about it, too. The way Victor's eyes were fixed on him despite his cock being buried deep inside of Edward? Fuck, Jerome was a writhing mess from it all. 

"Very close," Victor warned again. He smiled nastily. "I wanna watch you come in his mouth; please. Come, fucking choke him, Jerome." Victor kept thrusting, knowing his end was approaching. He loved this more than he wanted to admit, dear little Eddie being such a sweet little playmate for them. 

"Whatever you say, cupcake," Jerome panted out obediently, feeling that warmth building rapidly in his loins, the feeling of Ed's warm mouth coupled with the sight of Victor so close to the edge was so overwhelming. His hips rutted desperately up into Edward's mouth, his eyes narrowing viciously when he noticed their beautiful little plaything's hand reaching down to stroke his own cock. "Grab his hand. Now," he growled. 

Victor happily obeyed, watching his husband intently. He kept a tight grip on Edward's arm, twisting it harshly behind his back. He laughed between grunts, watching Jerome savagely fuck Edward's mouth as Ed struggled to balance himself on one arm. His dear redhead was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen and fuck, if it wasn't hot. 

Jerome gripped at Edward's throat, fucking up into his throat, relentless and brutal, reveling in the sounds of their beautiful little playmate choking and gasping around his cock. "Did either of us say you could come yet? I still want more and what good to me are you if you can't fuck me, huh?" he snarled. 

The sounds and feeling of Edward gagging on his cock was finally enough to push him over the edge. Jerome's orgasm hit him like a ton of bricks, letting out a loud mix hoarse moans and swears, his hips bucking wildly as he rode out every last wave of pleasure. 

Victor's eyes were lustful, watching his husband slam up into Edward's throat while the taller man struggled to swallow it all down; it was so sexy. Victor whimpered, watching his lover orgasm was too much and Edward felt so damn good. "Goddamn!" Victor cried, slapping a hand so hard across Edward's ass it was sure to leave a mark, coming hard. 

Edward had just finished choking down Jerome's load, licking his lips eagerly when he'd heard Jerome wanted more. He was about to tell him that fucking him was an absolute certainty, but then Victor was coming, Ed yelping at the rough smack. He moaned softly, feeling the assassin pumping into him. He panted, eyes squinting closed as felt Victor's thrusts finally slow down. Fuck, that was intense. 

Jerome was still panting heavily, attempting to catch his breath as he watched Victor viciously pump through his orgasm, laughing breathlessly at the cries he earned from Edward smacking his ass again. He laid back against the bed, letting out a lazy, pleased little sigh, figuring they were finished. 

Victor hummed happily, a little drunk smile on his face. He was almost worried he would have screwed away his buzz entirely, but he still felt pretty good. "Mmph, that was fun, Eddie," he teased, swatting playfully at his thighs before strolling over towards the bar. Needed a damn drink after that. 

"Indeed," Edward gasped, licking his lips. He let out a long sigh, trying to catch his breath. He smiled over at Jerome, simply crawling over towards him when Victor stepped away. "I believe someone requested more attention?" 

Jerome couldn't say no, still hungry for more. "I did request more attention! How sweet of you to remember that thing I said like, fifteen seconds ago," he replied with a smirk. 

Edward slid between the redhead's legs, the taste of his come still fresh on his lips. He ran his tongue over his fingers, brows raised suggestively, trailing down across Jerome's thigh and towards his hole. He slowly began to dip into him, careful at first, easing his way inside him. 

Jerome raised an eyebrow curiously as Edward began to gently work his fingers into him. What on earth was he doing? He couldn't help but laugh, looking at his new little playmate with a smirk. "Aww, Eddie. That's cute. And here I thought you were fun," he taunted. 

Edward soon realized that Jerome was definitely not a fragile thing that needed a soft touch. After all, he took that pounding Edward just did all the time from Victor. He smiled wickedly, caution easily forgotten, slamming his fingers roughly into Jerome and twisting. 

Jerome was quickly shut up when that wicked smile spread across Edward's lips, letting out a pleased little groan. "That's more like it," he moaned, his hips rocking down to meet his fingers desperately, not very used to someone taking the time to prep him in any sort of way. Foreplay for him and Victor generally involved lots of biting, hitting, and blood. This was an interesting change of pace, but he was bored quickly. 

It didn't take long for Jerome to grow impatient, reaching out and gripping at Ed's throat tightly, forcing him to look up at him. "I didn't stop you from coming so you could fuck me with your fingers like a little bitch," he growled, making it clear he wanted more and wanted it now. Patience wasn't Jerome's biggest strength. 

"Well, then," Edward chuckled, his eyes narrowing wickedly. "Turn over." He grabbed a pillow, forcing Jerome to turn over onto his stomach and shoving it under his hips to prop his ass up. Edward mounted him, snatching his hair and forcing his face down into the mattress. He used his other hand to rudely spread Jerome's legs, not hesitating one more second and thrusting his cock into him. Fuck, he groaned out loud, laughing from how ridiculously awesome it felt. He had wanted this from the first moment he had seen Jerome and it was just as sweet as he thought it would be. 

Jerome couldn't help the devious little grin on his face, letting out a shameless groan as he felt the other's cock roughly shoving into him. Fuck, that was what he had been waiting for. Sure, Ed's mouth had been great, but from the moment he had noticed that savage, detached look in his eyes? Jerome wanted to know what he felt like, what he would fuck like. And he was not disappointed. "Fuck, just like that," he cried out, words muffled against the sheets. 

"Ohhh, that's very nice," Edward sighed, his fingers digging in at both Jerome's hips and hair, slamming into him. He glanced over his shoulder, smiling wide at Victor as he fucked his husband. Oh, it felt so fucking good, to see his anger starting to return, glaring at him. Edward looked back to Jerome, tearing into him harder. He didn't have to worry about hurting him or being rough, he could completely let himself go and it was fucking exhilarating. 

Victor sipped at the drink he made, hissing softly as he watched them. He kept his eyes locked on Jerome, trying to control his temper. They'd been having such a good time together and he tried to tell himself that this was okay, that Jerome was still his; even with that fucking creep balls deep inside of him. Before Victor knew it, the rum in his glass was all gone, setting it aside. It was rather erotic, watching them together. He reached down, feeling a twitch in his cock again, mewling softly. He started stroking himself, his erection starting to wake back up. 

Jerome's hips slammed back to meet each and every last rough thrust, loving every last second, Ed's length definitely a bit more than he was used to. He managed to turn his head to the side, gasping for air as he looked over, green eyes fixed on his gorgeous little monster. He was a mess of desperate moans, his cock already hard as a rock again, giving Victor a pleading look to come joint them. He wanted more. He wasn't sure exactly of what, he just knew he needed more. 

Victor came back to bed, running his hands over Jerome's back. He spread his cheeks apart, watching Edward sliding in and out of him. Damn, he was impressed with what Ed was working with; but hated how much Jerome seemed to enjoy it. He growled softly, slipping a hand under Jerome's hip and finding his cock. He started jerking him hard, biting viciously at his side. 

Jerome let out an appreciative groan as Victor joined them once again, his hips caught between fucking forward into his husband's hand and thrusting back against Edward's cock. That bite only made him moan louder, panting and whimpering as he began to lose himself in the overwhelming pleasure. 

Edward smiled, watching as Victor returned to the action. He let go of Jerome's hair, grabbing Victor by the back of the head and pulling him in for a rough kiss. He could feel how much Victor wanted to pull away, but sighed happily as he quickly gave in, slipping his tongue past his lips. Edward was delighted that this had all worked out so damn well. The darkness inside of him was a stubborn beast and always got what he wanted. He loved every bit of Jerome; how he screamed and panted, how hot and tight he felt, it was like fucking a piece of heaven. 

Ed released Victor, licking his lips. Oh, this was so nice. He leaned his head back, grunting a little. His neck was still a tad sore from earlier and he smirked naughtily. He kept pounding away into Jerome, deciding that he wanted to return the favor from earlier. Turnabout was fair play, after all. He slipped his hands down the redhead's shoulders, fingers curling around his throat and squeezing. 

Victor started to grab his arm, snarling, "No, no, no. Don't fucking do that, Eddie." 

If there was one thing Jerome didn't fuck around with, it was anyone but Victor daring to put their hands anywhere near his throat. Not after that stupid fuck Galavan had plunged a knife into it and left him choking on his own blood. But when Ed's hands wrapped around his neck, he didn't put up a struggle. Nope. He let it happen, letting out choked little gasps as Victor tried to pull Ed's arms away, looking up at his husband with wide eyes. Fuck, it felt so god damn good and it was written all over his face. 

Victor roared softly, in complete shock. Jerome... liked it. He was letting Edward choke him. Even after everything they had done tonight, that was crossing a line he knew they would never come back from. Everything was spinning, his hands clutching at his face. No, this was fucking wrong. It was all fucking wrong and he couldn't stop it. Edward kept fucking him harder and harder and all Victor could hear were his husband's hoarse screams of pleasure. He closed his eyes, yelling out loud for them to stop, but no sound escaped his lips. 

What the fuck! 

What the fuck was fucking going on!? 

Victor's eyes snapped open, gasping, his heart pounding. 

The apartment was quiet except for the soft music playing from the jukebox. He looked around in a fit, his chest heaving. Jerome was asleep in his lap, stretched out on the couch. "Love To Love You Baby" was ending, a loud click as the next record switched over. It was still raining outside, but there was no Edward, they hadn't... 

It had been a dream, Victor realized. They had passed out from drinking on the couch together. 

His eyes snapped to the jukebox. If fucking "Lady Marmalade" started playing, he was going to start shooting. Fortunately, it was "September" by Earth, Wind and Fire. He let out a long sigh of relief, it was all just a fucking dream. A disgusting, horrible, vivid dream... that had left him waking up with a throbbing hard on. Goddammit. He couldn't get the images out of his mind, suddenly enraged. He glared down at his husband, gritting his teeth. This was all Jerome's fault for canoodling with that fucking string bean prick down at City Hall. 

He smacked Jerome right in the face, snarling, "Wake the fuck up! Right now!" He didn't even give Jerome a moment to rub the sleep from his eyes, grabbing his shoulders and crawling forcefully on top of him. He hit him again, unable to stop himself. "I can't fucking believe this; this is all your fucking fault, Jerome!" 

Jerome and Victor had had a nice evening. They had spent the rainy night inside, curled up together on the couch, drinking and enjoying a surprisingly rare quiet night in. No wild sexcapades, Jerome surprisingly calm and happy to just fall asleep by the warm glow of the jukebox, nice and buzzed in his husband's lap. There had been a few days of tension because of his escapades down at City Hall, but things had started to finally get back to normal. 

Or at least he thought they were. 

Jerome awoke with a startled hiss as he felt Victor hitting him hard, barely even able to open his eyes before he was pinned down against the couch with his husband hitting him again. He growled, never one to be pleasant when he was woken up under normal circumstances, let alone to being hit in the damn face and yelled at. He swung back blindly, managing to catch Victor in the mouth. "What the fuck?!" he barked, voice still laced with sleep, his eyes finally peeking open. 

He began to thrash underneath his husband, growling furiously as he tried to shove him off of him. "What the fuck is my fault? You're the one who just woke me up out of a dead sleep with a fucking punch in the face! Fuck!" he growled, tired and grumpy, his knee digging into Victor's side. 

"Ohhh, you fucking know!" Victor sneered, swallowing back a mouthful of blood. He winced as Jerome caught him in the ribs, but he refused to let up. He was so angry, all he could see was his smiling face as Edward choked him. He shoved his forearm against Jerome's throat, holding him down and tearing at his pants. He practically ripped them off, panting. 

Jerome gasped as Victor's forearm pressed down against his throat, still barely even awake enough to prepare himself, his eyes narrowed into vicious little slits. He was still so confused, so angry as he was trying to figure out what the fuck was going on, struggling as his husband tore at his pants, almost too angry to give in. 

Victor pushed himself between Jerome's legs, reaching under the couch cushion to retrieve his gun. That was definitely not some crazy figment of his dream; there were weapons stashed all over the apartment. He jammed the barrel of the gun right up against Jerome's ass, clicking the hammer back. He leaned close, biting his husband's cheek harshly. "What you fucking did; letting that fucking bastard touch you!" 

Jerome's pulse pounded hard when he heard the sound of the hammer click. It immediately pushed him into a much more willing submission, a choked little hiss falling past his lips at the bite. When his husband finally shed a little light on what had made him so angry, suddenly it all started to make a bit more sense, although he couldn't say he wasn't still annoyed about being woken from a dead sleep over a damn dream. 

Victor took a deep breath, deceptively calm as he added, "I know I forgave you, you've been doing a reaaaaally super job making it up to me... But." He gritted his teeth, digging the gun in hard, snarling furiously, "I still can't fucking get it out of my head! Now, I'm fucking dreaming about it!" 

"You're... angry about... a dream?" Jerome choked out, always one to keep digging. This was certainly the angriest his husband had been with him so far, despite being forgiven. He wasn't entirely sure if he should, never having seen his little monster quite so unhinged with him before, but he shoved his hand into Victor's pajama pants and underwear, wrapping his fingers around his cock. There was a dark look in his eyes that sent a little shiver down Jerome's spine, not being entirely certain if Victor could stop himself from choking the life out of him making him feel surprisingly alive. 

"Fuck yes, I'm fucking angry!" Victor roared, twisting the barrel of the gun, not caring if he hurt Jerome or not. He was well past any level of concern, his arm pressing down harder. "It's your fucking fault that shit is in my head! It was _him_! And you! And, and!" He let out a little grunt when he felt Jerome's hand grabbing him, growling. He couldn't even bring himself to say the rest, he was so fucking pissed. He couldn't stop thinking about it, watching Jerome kiss Edward and touch him, it was making his blood boil. 

Jerome was writhing underneath his husband, letting out a choked little hiss, for once actually more annoyed than enjoying it. But like most things in Jerome's head, it bounced pretty quickly back to enjoyment when Victor's arm pressed down harder against his throat, satisfied when that little growl fell past his lips. 

Victor moved the gun, shoving it in Jerome's mouth. He was still quite drunk and his temper was unstable. His hips were slowly thrusting into Jerome's hand, trying to resist him, but it was difficult. Even as furious as he was, his darling husband was so very beautiful. His pulse was throbbing in his cock, whining softly. He started grinding his hips into Jerome's, snarling, "All I can see is you fucking him, and you fucking _loving_ it, letting him fucking _choke_ the fucking life out of you." 

Jerome couldn't help but grin around the barrel of the gun, his hand working over his husband's cock as his hips started to thrust into his hand. "You know I wouldn't... let him choke me," he gasped out, words completely muffled by the gun in his mouth. Sure, he kind of loved the chaos and anger Victor's jealousy was bringing out of him, but his darling little monster had to know he was the only one allowed anywhere near his neck. Even if he had enjoyed flirting with Eddie, if he had even _attempted_ to put a hand near his neck, Jerome would have slit that pretty, pale throat of his without any sort of hesitation. 

"I don't fucking believe you!" Victor snarled, sticking the gun down Jerome's throat as far as he could. "You let him fucking grab your fucking cock, you fucking kissed him! Why not let him choke you! You probably would have fucked him if I wasn't there!" 

Jerome's eyes were watering as Victor shoved the barrel of the gun down his throat, gagging and coughing around it, the barrel scratching his throat raw. He tried to breathe through his nose, doing his best to control the gagging, but with how relentless his husband was being, it was difficult. 

Victor continued to let Jerome gag until he was satisfied, finally pulling the gun back out and jamming it under his chin. He rudely smacked Jerome's hands away, starting to ram his cock into him completely dry. He hissed at the burn, continuing to push. Fuck, it hurt; he knew it had to hurt for his husband, but he simply didn't care at that moment. He was going to fuck him raw until he could get that horrible dream out of his head. His cock was barely moving, tearing into Jerome as he struggled to force his way inside. 

Jerome winced and hissed at the burn. He spread his legs a little wider, his leg hooking up around his waist, his heel digging into his back. "Fuck you! That fucking _hurts_ , and not in the fun way," he spat around the barrel of the gun, never able to keep his mouth shut, his lips curling into a vicious little snarl, his knuckles going white from how hard he was gripping at the edge of the couch cushion. 

"I hope it fucking hurts," Victor seethed, fucking without a care in the fucking world. "What you fucking did to me fucking hurt!" Whether by sweat or blood, Victor was making progress, his cock halfway rammed into Jerome's ass. He was getting frustrated, it wasn't happening fast enough, pulling out and spitting on his hand. It was barely enough, but he rubbed his length down with what he had and slammed back into Jerome. Fuck, it stung. He groaned loudly, breaking into a pant. Even as angry as he was, he couldn't deny how good Jerome's body felt, how handsome he was. 

Jerome was grateful for the tiny amount of spit Victor slicked over his cock, taking away some of the awful pain, but his eyes still went wide as he slammed into him. He couldn't help himself, so angry at how particularly harsh he was being, swinging hard and hitting him right in the jaw. "You fucking made out with Jim first! I only kissed him and let him touch me to get back at you!" Jerome growled, his voice raw from the gun down his throat. 

That punch made Victor's head snap back, growling and licking the blood leaking down from his split lip. "Don't you dare put this back on me! You were being all fucking cute with ol' Eddie looong before I showed up, never once did I cross your fucking mind until you fucking saw me walk in! I kissed Jim to prove a fucking point! One you clearly still don't fucking get!" 

Victor growled low; he couldn't bare to look at his husband right then. He got up, grabbing Jerome by his hair, gun still pressed against his head. Jerome yelped, trying to keep his grip on the back of the couch but fuck, Victor was ridiculously strong when he was that angry. He grunted as his face was shoved against the floor with enough force that his nose immediately began bleeding. 

Victor kept Jerome pinned, grabbing his cock and ramming it back into him. Victor had never been so cruel before. He had never been so pissed off and he couldn't get that insane dream out of his head. He couldn't stop seeing them together, touching, fucking. He roared in fury, digging the barrel of the gun into Jerome's scalp as he tore into him harder. 

This was so different than their usual rough play. Jerome was used to that balance of pain and pleasure, enjoying every last rough bite and punch. But fuck, this felt like punishment. It undoubtedly was. And he knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he probably deserved it to an extent for crossing that line, but He was never one for thinking very clearly. He was angry, hurt and just wanted it to be over, despite how good it felt here and there when Victor's cock hit the right spot. He couldn't deny that a part of him was so turned on by his husband's rage and brutal passion. He gripped hard at the carpet, hoping that his face being buried against it would muffle the small groan that fell past his lips, determined not to let Victor know there was any part of him enjoying this. 

A small part of his resolve finally cracked, whimpering at the sharp sting of Victor's cock slamming into him so brutally, the ache from the gun digging into the back of his skull. "I'm fucking sorry, okay?! I swear I won't let anyone touch me ever again!" he cried out, his hips slowly starting to rock back to meet each thrust, taking deep, sharp breaths to try and hide how much it really hurt. 

That apology suddenly made Victor's heart ache; Jerome had said he was sorry after what had happened, but it always felt as if he was only going through the motions. He had only apologized because he knew that's what Victor wanted to hear. It had been hollow, forced. But this time, this felt sincere, it felt real. He whined, Jerome's body rocking back against his was getting to him. His anger was starting to recede. 

"You'd fucking better not," Victor hissed. He tossed the gun away, propping himself up on both his hands and pounding into Jerome relentlessly. He was panting, fucking him so hard he was scooting them across the carpet back up against the couch. He kept close, never stopping, animalistic growls escaping his lips. He was sweating, still enraged, his pace out of control and brutal. "You're _mine_ , always!" 

Jerome felt a wave of relief when Victor finally lost the gun, actually feeling a bit scared for a moment that he wouldn't really be forgiven and that his precious little monster might kick him to the curb. Jerome was generally fearless, very little actually making him worry. But losing Victor? He was certain it would crush him in a way he would never be able to recover from. "I won't, I promise," he gasped out, gripping at the edge of the couch as they moved closer, his knees stinging from the burn of being drug across the carpet so harshly. 

Victor finally began to slow down; which considering his previous rhythm, still meant savagely fast and hard. It was steady enough to take the edge off the pain, tongue running over his bleeding lip. He groaned softly, bowing his head down and biting the back of Jerome's neck. Through clenched teeth, he snarled, " _I love you._ " 

Jerome cried out, that harsh pain quickly easing into pleasure as Victor's pace finally relented into one that was far less brutal. His whimpers turned to loud moans, starting to slam his hips back to meet each and every last thrust. He let out a loud cry as his husband's teeth sunk into the back of his neck, panting heavily as he tilted his head back, biting hard at Victor's jaw. "I love you, too, Victor. So fucking much," he assured him, voice filled with passion. "I'm yours, only yours." 

Victor grunted pleasurably, the rage in his heart fading away. He felt confident Jerome finally understood, at least as much as he was capable of anyway. Hearing his husband's reassurances eased the pain Victor had been feeling, the fear. That's what it was, he had been afraid. Seeing Jerome with another man, in reality or his dreams, terrified him. He couldn't stand the thought of not having his beautiful madman, especially the idea of losing him to another. That had already happened once; it was why he had stayed away from other men, surrounded himself with only women, not wanting to risk another romance ending in heart break. He knew that another loss like the one before would surely kill him. 

Now that it began to actually feel good, Jerome felt that delicious burning building in his loins, feeling that fire spread throughout his body. Sweating and shaking, he knew he was close, his body going tighter around his monster's cock. "Getting close. Can I come? Please?" he gasped out, not certain if he should without permission, but he wasn't sure he would be able to hold off much longer. 

"Not yet," Victor snarled. 

Jerome gave an obedient nod as he was told to wait, doing everything he could to hold himself back. He groaned loudly as he felt Victor coming inside of him, clawing at the couch as he forced himself to hold on just a bit longer, mewling at a harsh bite at his shoulder and the violent, fast snap of his husband's hips. 

Victor knew Jerome had to be aching for release, more than happy to help give it to him. Perhaps also even a bit of an apology of his own needed to be made. He rolled his husband over onto his back, quickly crushing his lips in a savage kiss before his mouth danced down over his stomach and between his legs. He knew he had hurt Jerome, licking gently at his raw hole. He could taste his own fluids and blood, lapping against his flesh lovingly. He buried his face into him, kissing and tonguing until he felt Jerome was right at that sweet edge. 

Jerome whined softly, watching through heavy lidded eyes, his legs spreading wide at the feeling of Victor's tongue lapping over his hole, gasping and groaning. Each kiss and lick brought him closer and closer to the edge, clawing at the back of his neck as he his thighs began to tremble, feeling his pulse in his dripping cock. 

Victor lifted up his head, hungrily taking his husband's cock into his mouth and sucking every inch back into his throat. His eyes closed, his head slamming up and down over his dick, teeth grazing over his shaft and swallowing back as he breathed purposely through his nose. His thumb moved to stroke the tender bit of skin just behind his balls, massaging gently as he sucked him harder. He purred over his length, eager to taste his lover's load. 

Jerome writhed uncontrollably, moaning loudly, panting hard. He was so caught up in the overwhelming pleasure, panting heavily, unable to even form a warning as his orgasm hit him like a ton of bricks, crying out his monster's name as he unloaded down his throat, his back arching harshly. His hips bucked desperately, keeping a firm hold of the back of Victor's head as he fucked his throat hard through every last quiver. 

Victor took every harsh slam of his husband's cock down his throat, swallowing every drop eagerly. Fuck, he tasted so good. Even when Jerome let go of him, he licked greedily around his head and shaft, searching for any bit left behind. 

Jerome's head slammed back against the floor, blindly reaching for Victor's shoulder, tugging him up on top of him. Jerome was trying to catch his breath, arms wrapping tightly around his husband, clinging to him tightly, like he would disappear if he let go. He pressed a few sloppy little kisses along his cheek until he found his lips, his tongue lapping over his split lip. "Don't leave me, okay? I know I messed up, like a lot. I get caught up in the moment sometimes and don't think. I just... please don't leave. I love you," he murmured against his lips, that nagging fear resurfacing now that they had finished. 

Victor pressed against him close, purring softly at his kisses. He could feel their heart beats thudding together, smiling contently. He gently nuzzled their noses together, taken aback by how emotional Jerome was. His little madman did love him, Victor knew. And it was true he didn't always think things through; Victor knew that as well. He was satisfied that Jerome had already suffered enough, frowning as he listened to him fret. This was nothing that they couldn't get past, Victor was sure of it. He loved Jerome too much to let this foolishness ruin them. He reached for his husband's left hand, fingers running over his wedding band as he murmured, "Never. I will never leave you. You're mine and I am yours, always. Don't you remember? For richer and poorer, in sickness and in health, all of that shit? I meant every fucking word." 

Jerome very rarely got emotional, something he had to teach himself to fake for a long time to pass off like a normal person before he had finally snapped. It always felt strange and foreign, all of the genuine emotion Victor could draw out of him, even if he didn't always show it. He loved his darling little monster more than he would ever know how to express. He felt another wave of relief wash over him as he was reassured this was just a bump in the road for them, his fingers tracing along the inside of his husband's wrist. 

Victor kissed Jerome passionately, letting his tongue slide against his even as his lip reopened and he could taste fresh blood. He sat up, pulling Jerome into his lap as he leaned against the couch, holding him tight. He kissed his neck and shoulders, burying his face against his flesh. 

Jerome kissed him back just as passionately, letting out a pleased little hum as he tasted warm, fresh blood on the tip of his tongue. He snuggled up close against his chest, his eyes closing at the feeling of those kisses being trailed along his skin. His hand came up to cradle the back of Victor's head as he buried his face, his thumb gently brushing along his scalp. 

Victor sighed, swallowing hard, gently pleading, "Just, please... Don't hurt me again. Not like that." 

Jerome felt another pang of guilt, nuzzling his nose against the top of his head, leaving a few sweet kisses in his wake. "Never again. I promise. I won't ever do it again." 

Jerome paused, pulling back and tilting Victor's chin up to look at him, a playful little grin spreading across his lips. "Want me to kill him? I could totally kill him. I don't think Pengy would be too happy, but I could slit his throat if it would make you smile." 

Victor laughed, grinning wide. It was truly the sweetest thing Jerome could offer, kissing him brightly. "Aw, baby doll. You are so thoughtful... But no. I don't need him dead. I mean. I wouldn't mind it, but it's not necessary." He cuddled close, his heart happy, kissing his husband again. "All I need is you. _You_ make me smile. That's one of my favorite things about you; how much you make me laugh." 

He held onto Jerome tight, flexing his legs enough to bring them up onto the couch. He pulled him close, snuggling beside him and pressing little kisses along his chest. There was no one else in the world for him, Victor knew in his soul; only Jerome. They were made for each other, monster and madman. He pouted slightly, chuckling, "Besides. I like working for Penguin. If you killed Edward, then Oswald would try to kill you, and then I would have to kill him. Just one big mess, my darling." He let his eyes close, his mind relaxed and at peace. 

Jerome smiled brightly at each kiss, cuddling close. He wrapped his arms around his shoulders, tangling their legs together, pressing adoring little kisses to the top of his head. "I mean, it is kinda hot watching you get all badass assassin on people for trying to kill me," he giggled, sighing contentedly as he let his eyes slip shut. "But you have a point, it would get very messy. And that grumpy little Penguin does pay you very well." 

Jerome happily took in the scent of his monster, his hand rubbing at his back soothingly. For the first time since the entire incident with Edward, he felt truly at ease, like things were entirely okay between the two of them. He hadn't realized just how much it had been weighing him down, constantly worrying in the back of his mind that he had ruined everything. It felt like a weight had been lifted, knowing there was no other place he belonged other than by Victor's side, wrapped up in his arms. 

Victor let out another long sigh, exhausted from all the emotion and physical exertion of the evening's events. "I love you, Jerome," he murmured, playfully pinching his husband's nipple. "And... And I do forgive you." He meant it, with all of his heart. He knew Jerome felt terrible for the consequences of his actions and Victor wanted them to move past this. He was almost grateful for that horrible dream, forcing them to face this nastiness head on and resolve it once and for all. 

Jerome laughed as Victor twisted his nipple, leaning down and playfully biting at his ear in return. "I love you too. So much," he purred into his ear, letting out a little yawn, completely worn out. "Also, if you ever wake me up like that again, I will strangle you to death in your sleep. _Lovingly_." 

"Noted," Victor chuckled softly. 

Jerome hesitated a moment, peeking his sleepy eyes open, reaching for Victor's hand and moving it to rest against the side of his throat, guiding his fingers along the raised up scar, keeping his hand rested on top of his husband's as he snuggled in closer, beginning to drift off. "I meant it, by the way. You're the only one _ever_ allowed this close. Ever," he mumbled, voice laced with sleep. 

Victor's fingertips carefully traced along the scar, still ever in awe at the journey his husband had made returning from the dead. It was incredible, a genuine miracle; and how far they had come. It seemed like only yesterday Victor had taken out Jerome's crew and was hunting him down to kill him in that shithole warehouse. Now, here they were, happily married and madly in love. Life had the funniest ways of working out, didn't it? 

Victor smirked softly, saying, "I knew I wanted you from the moment I saw you. Do you remember when we first met? You let me choke you, even then..." Sleep was coming for him as well, yawning softly. He hadn't realized then how special it was that Jerome had let him touch him there; knowing now only made their first time together all that more dear to him. "It was love at first sight, don't you think?" He laughed, grinning dumbly as he clarified, "I suppose it was really love at first 'bite', huh?" 

"It absolutely was, cupcake." Jerome couldn't help but let out a sleepy little laugh, nuzzling closer to Victor. He loved a terrible joke and his darling husband was full of them. He nuzzled a little closer, grabbing the blanket he had been using earlier and tugging it over top of them. "I knew the second I met you that you were somethin' special. And that I wanted to be all yours and for you to be all mine. And here we are." 

Jerome snuggled up closer to Victor, the warmth and closeness finally making him give in, losing the fight to sleep. It was only moments before he was snoring softly, content and cozy curled up on the couch with his monster. Victor was right behind him, sighing softly. His last waking thoughts were hopes that no more dreams would come; he'd had enough nightmares for a lifetime.


End file.
